


They always need each other

by ElisaReven



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlolly - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 32,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisaReven/pseuds/ElisaReven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly has been kidnapped, Sherlock is on a case to find the six missing girls, what neither of them realise is the only thing to save them both.<br/>Sherlock realises why he enjoys working with Molly Hooper and the past he hadn't detected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I only own the new character everything else goes to ACD, moffet and Gatiss.

Molly Hooper was more tired than she could remember, it had been a particularly hard day at St Bart’s hospital. There had been an accident the evening before and so there were more cadavers than normal, not to mention all the tests on blood works that go with being a pathologist. Molly and the other people in her department had ended up staying three hours past her shift just so that the work could be done. She closed the door to her flat and slid out of her coat. The doctor didn’t bother with any dinner or drinks she went straight to her bathroom; took a quick shower and climbed into her bed. The sheets were warm and she pulled them up over her shoulder. It took no time at all for Molly to fall asleep.

Molly’s sleep wasn’t peaceful, she wasn’t dreaming but it felt like a presence was above her, looming down on her. Opening her eyes with flickers she felt warm breath above her. A hand slid beneath the covers and pulled them back. Molly froze her body rigid with fear, she was sure this was a dream. The hand ran down her bare arm gripping it tight. Another hand took hold of her and Molly was being dragged round, off the bed. The man grinned showing white teeth the darkened bedroom. She cursed herself for having blackout blinds throughout the flat.

She was being pulled from the bedroom, roughly. Realisation came over and molly knew she needed to fight back. Using her elbow she jabbed into the man’s chest. He let go of her briefly as she tried to dart away from him.

His heavy hand came down on her face and molly fell to the floor. She tried to scramble away kicking her legs out at the man. She knew what was about to happen to her. The man’s face was covered but somehow Molly knew who it was in front of her.

Something heavy hit her hard in the side of her head, it smashed around her but Molly wasn’t given anytime to discover what the object had been because her eyes went dark and her mind blank.

*-*-*-*

Finally Molly came back to consciousness, though she didn’t open her eyes she could feel her surroundings. The floor was cold and hard, her shoulder was uncomfortable against hit. There was a distinct smell of decay around her. Molly spent her life working with the dead and she knew the smell instantly. By the strength of it she could tell there was a least three corpses close to her. The oldest having been dead for around six months. Her body shook with fear as she slowly opened her eyes. Molly was face to face with the open eyes of a girl. She was unmoving and the greyness told Molly she was one of the corpses. Letting out a shuddering breath Molly turned her head. The room had only one light, an uncovered bulb that let out barely any light. She tried to sit up, it was hard work, her arms had been bound by ropes behind her back; her legs were tied in the same manner at the ankle. The spinning of her mind reminded Molly of her head wound and she was suddenly aware of the blood covering her hair and face.

Looking around her the pathologist counted six women. They were all dead, mutilated and showing fear. Now Molly understood why she had been taken. Each of the women looked just like her. Average height, slim built and long auburn hair. How could this have happened to her? With everything she knew of the consulting detective she had been taken by a normal run of the mill psycho. She almost laughed at that thought. Surely she should be frightened for her life seeing the outcome that was inevitable death. Spending so many years with Sherlock had hardened her to the realities of criminals.

Approaching footsteps drew molly out of her out of the thoughts. The metal door opened and the tall man stepped in. He looked down at her and laughed.

“Good you’re awake.”

“Michael.” Molly tried to keep her voice as flat as possible.

“Nice to see you remember Me.” he bent down and dragged Molly to her feet. “Well what do you think? I’ve practiced a few times.”

Michael lifted Molly up and carried her from the room. The corridor seemed to go on forever until he finally stepped into another room. He dropped her onto a bed. Molly was at least pleased to be on the soft mattress. With a knife he had pulled from his pocket Michael cut the ropes that bound Molly. Her release was short lived though as he forcefully bent her arms up clamping them into the metal cuffs that had been attached to the bedposts. There was a lustful fire in the man’s eyes. He positioned himself over her, his legs either side of her small body. The knife was long and wide but he used it with precision. He slid the cold metal through the thin fabric of Molly’s pink nightdress until it showed her body. The shoulder straps snapped easily under the blade’s pressure. Michael whipped the dismantled fabric across the room. He looked down at her running his hand across her pale skin.

“Oh how I have missed you Molly Hooper.”

“Michael you don’t have to do this.”

He smiled tilting his head to one side.

“Yes I do. You drew me to this even back then, you knew what you were doing to me.”

“I was doing my job, Michael.”

The back of his hand came down on Molly’s cheek and she felt the hotness of the smack. Michael didn’t speak again for a while. He used the knife to cut off Molly’s knickers exposing her body entirely to him. Tears welled up in Molly’s eyes, she was powerless to stop him and she knew it. The tall man moved away from her taking in the picture of her restrained, naked body. There was a smile on his face that showed his every intention.

He wasn’t wearing many clothes, a thin cotton shirt; a pair of suit trousers and simple black shoes. He didn’t remove any of them as he climbed back on to Molly. He pressed his lips tight to hers running his hands over her body.

“I know you are not going to like what I’m doing but I’ve done it enough to know that your body will enjoy it even if your mind doesn’t”

He laughed as he again kissed Molly. His fingers worked on her breasts, squeezing them and caressing them. His touch was actually soft and it shook Molly’s mind more than if her had been rough. Michael’s kisses moved to her neck, as his hand stroked down her body. He separated her legs, used his fingers to make circles on Molly’s clit.

Molly cursed herself as she realised he was right. Her body reacted to the touch and a shiver ran through her spin.

His fingers worked on her, sliding in and out of her. Molly’s tried to keep her mind on her distain for the man but her body was betraying her. Shivers of pleasure were rippling through her body. She could feel Michael’s enjoyment pressing against her thigh. Molly squirmed beneath him in an attempt to remove his hands from her body. It only made him laugh more.

Michael moved himself back enough to unzip his trousers. He let out his hardness and stroked its length. He looked down at Molly, giving her that terrible grin. He pushed her legs further apart and positioned himself between them. The tears fell from Molly’s eyes freely now she truly realised the reality of what was happening to her. She felt Michael fill her pushing all of himself into her. It wasn’t gentle anymore. The thrusting was wild and hard. Their bodies slapping against each other. His fingers dug into the flesh of Molly’s hips until finally he emptied his pleasure into her.

Climbing off of Molly, Michael continued to laugh. He was panting with his pleasure. Once he had righted his clothing he walked back over to Molly bending down to kiss her forehead.

“You stay here, I’ll be back later.”

Molly could do nothing but cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she's barely a thought to them but she thinks so deeply.

Sherlock Holmes waltzed into the lab at St Bart’s. He was expecting to see his favourite pathologist in her usually place but Molly wasn’t there. For a flitting moment the consulting detective’s mood flopped though his mind and the case took over again. He continued to ignore the other pathologists in the room and sat down at the microscope.

John Watson walked in behind him and smiled to the older man who hunched over some papers. He scowled back at John his eyes darting to Sherlock. They both knew the older doctor had a distain for Sherlock ever since he had rightly deducted his deepest secrets. John knew he was going to be of no use to his best friend so he left the lab and made his way to the canteen.  

There wasn’t many people in there and it was fairly quiet. John enjoyed the quiet it reminded him of once being a student at the hospital. He was sit with two of his friends in the far corner as they poured over medical text books and their assignments.

The coffee machine did its work making barely any noise as it poured the dark liquid into a cardboard cup.

“Hello John.” Mike Stamford’s voice broke the peace inside John’s mind. He turned and greeted his old friend. They spent a few minutes talking together before both returning to the lab. They joked as they entered the room laughing loudly. Both Sherlock and older doctor gave them disapproving glares. They fell quiet for a moment.

“Where’s Molly today?” john asked eventually.

“Day off I think. She was in very late last night, I don’t she was supposed to be in today.”

“Oh right.” John took a sip of his coffee.

“The girl is allowed a day off you know.” Mike joked.

“Not when there is a case Mike.” John continued his joke.

“I can check the rota if you want see when she is back in?”

“No it’s ok I think he can handle this one without her.” john said the last part quieter not wanting Sherlock to hear the end of the conversation. Of course he had heard it. Somewhere in the back of Sherlock’s mind there had been a hope that Mike would have checked the rota and given him peace of mind of Doctor Hooper’s return to work. Though if asked he would admit only to a professional interest in having the most efficient pathologist at his disposal. There was of course no other reasoning for his wanting to know.

Sherlock rose to his feet and pulled on his woollen coat turning up the collar.

“Come John, we have six women to save we cannot be idol.” John rolled his eyes before joining Sherlock in the corridor.

“Sherlock, where are we going?”

“Scotland Yard. I need more information.”

“It’s been almost a year since these girls started being taken, and you’ve been on the case for a month now.”

“What are you trying to say John?”

“I don’t know, I just . . . I can’t believe anyone would do this. Why is he taking them, Sherlock?”   

“Surely you must have some idea, john. There are not many reasons for men to take women.”

 

*-*-*-*

 

Molly had stopped crying though her eyes were still wet. Her body was uncomfortably exposed to the air, and whilst she had curled her legs up close her arms were still cuffed to either side of the bed.

The door across the room opened and Michael stepped in, he smiled at her as he made his way closer to her.

“Michael, please.” Molly tried to plead with him.

“Don’t talk Molly you’ll only make it worse for yourself.” He pulled a gun from his behind his back. It had been tucked into his trousers. “If you’re good we can have a lot of fun. I want it to last as long as possible, so don’t try to get away or do anything that I don’t tell you to do. Or I’ll have to kill you before the time is right.”

For a fleeting moment Molly wanted to shout out that someone was coming for her. That Sherlock Holmes would notice her absence and he was going to come bursting in and safe her at any moment. But she knew he wouldn’t. Why would he care for her? He never did before. He would only be worried that he might have to sweet talk someone else into getting him things. Instead Molly closed her eyes, pushing the thought from her mind.

She felt the bed move on one side and knew Michael was about to take her again. His hands were on her body. Molly tried to think of something else.

Perhaps someone would notice she was gone. She did have some friends. There was the people she worked with surely eventually they would realise she wasn’t attending work. That her files were going unfilled. Or maybe Mary would notice, they had a standing date to meet at least once every two weeks. John Watson’s wife had become a very close friend over the last two years of being with John. John, he wasn’t like Sherlock surely he would notice her absence from the lab.

All these thoughts were keeping her mind active, she pictured each of her friends. Though her body was now forfeit to the man now thrusting into her she would not give him her mind.

Perhaps even with his busy schedule and workload Lestrade would notice the absence of her signature on pathology tests. What about her landlord, her rent should be paid next week, he would notice no lack of money and . . .  no . . . it was an automated payment and there was plenty of money in her bank account. Molly tried to think about her friends the girls she would go out to bars with when she had nights off from work. Would they try to call her and get no answer then worry? Was it for nothing that she hoped they would find her?

Days begin to pass Molly, she wasn’t sure how time moved any more. There were no windows in her room so night and day had no meaning to Molly. Her body had been covered with thin white sheet. Molly’s shoulders were beginning to feel the heat of burning from being pulled out for so long. She barely noticed as Michael once more entered the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Molly felt the release on her arms and drew them to her body, she turned on to her side in hope of sleeping. There was no luck for her anymore and his hands were on her.

“How about we play a different game today Molly.” He took hold of her face in his hands pulling her round to him. “I’m a little bored of our recent arrangements, you need to engage again, _Miss Hooper_!” his voice spat out like snake’s venom, his hands dragging Molly from the bed. He sat himself onto the chair in the corner and pushed Molly to her knees. She kept her eyes to the ground as he unzipped his trousers once more. There was nothing in Molly anymore to fight against what he wanted. She did as she was told and pleasure the man before her. The gun in his hand made sure of it. It didn’t take long for Michael to use up every part of Molly that day. He didn’t leave the room for what felt like hours. Finally when he was done, Molly dropped to the floor beside the wall pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She wanted to cry but no tears would come to her dry eyes.

Molly wasn’t sure how long she had stayed in that position but a noise at the door pulled her eyes. It was Michael again but this time there was no lust in his eyes. This was normal after using her for his pleasure Michael would return with a plate of food and a bottle of water. He had told her on the first day that he wanted it to last that meant having her healthy, for the most part. He would sit and watch her eat, making sure she had every last bite. The bottle too had to be emptied. Then with a tug on her wrist he would lead Molly into the adjoining bathroom. The steal bathtub was always cold against her skin but she found a comfort in it. Such a stark contrast to the heat of the shower that beat down on her. Her capture would use an old sponge to wash to dirt of the day from her body. In a way the act was caring, he would be gentle and kind as he shampooed her long hair.

But when he was done he would leave her cold and wet on the ground. Molly knew she would have a few hours before he returned to her again and would use the time any allusions her body required of her. Then sleep would fall over her dreamless.

 

*-*-*-*

 

 Sherlock stood in Scotland Yard, he had taken over Lestrade’s office, pinning pictures, maps and all of his evidence to the walls. His face was hard and his eyes narrowed at all the pictures. Greg and John were sat at the desk in silence, waiting for some sign from Sherlock.

After a short while John let a long breath and picked up a picture of one the women.

“Sherlock? Is she familiar to you?” he handed the picture to the detective who took it in his hands without breaking his gaze at the wall. For a moment he just looked down at the picture his moth drying out until he finally turned to the other men.

“Was Molly Hooper at the lab last time we went?”

John caught his breath trying to remember. “No, I don’t think we’ve seen her for a while.”

Sherlock was already pulling his phone from his coat and dialling a number. There was no answer from Molly’s mobile.

“John, call Mike Stamford.”

The army Doctor was already on it when Sherlock spoke. The call rang twice before the jolly voice answered it.

“Hi Mike, just quick question, is Molly Hooper in today?”

_“I’ll just check hold on.”_

The call was silent for a moment, John stood with anticipation.

“ _John? You there?”_

 _“_ Yes mike.”

_“Sorry mate she isn’t in, says she called in sick, no doctor’s note though. Looks like she hasn’t been in for a while.”_

_“_ How long?”

_“Oh, god, you might want to come here John.”_

Sherlock had of course been listening and was already heading out the door. Lestrade and John followed him.

He threw the doors to Mike’s office open and rushed to his side.

“Tell me, how long.”

“Well slow down a second Sherlock, just look. She had a couple of days off and then didn’t come in, no call to say why not at fir-”

Sherlock grabbed the computer screen spinning it round to face him and scanned the screen.

“A month John, she has been gone for a month. Look, they received a call from a family member to say that she was ill.” John was looking over the detective’s shoulder. Somewhere in the close distance Sherlock could hear Lestrade on his phone.

“John doesn’t Mary normally meet Molly socially?”

John’s eyes widened. “Yes but we haven’t seen her for . . .” the words caught in John’s throat. He had finally caught up with what was happening. The pictures of those other girls all of them had been around her age; long auburn hair and sweet smiles. “Shit.”

Greg stepped back to them. “Look I just checked the missing persons, no one called about her.”

“No they wouldn’t they would call here first and be told she was sick and leave it at that. Human nature is not curious enough.” Sherlock’s voice was deeper than normal as though he was trying to keep calm.

“What do we do now?” John’s question sounded out into each of the other men. Sherlock’s eyes darted about as if he was looking through an invisible room. Greg answered for him.

“Her flat. There might be some clues there.” The words apparently pulled Sherlock from his mind palace.

“We’ll go, lestrade find out if she has any connection to the other girls other than her looks. We missed something. I missed something.”

Everyone went about with what they had decided both Greg and John made no mention of Sherlock’s admittance to being wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock used his toolkit to pick the lock of Molly’s flat and entered it catching his breath. The door opened into the living room and the detective felt his heart sink looking around. He had never been in the flat before, and it was not as he had expected. There was no pink on the walls and very little ‘girly’ things as he would describe them. The far wall was taken up by one set of bookshelves. They were filled with medical texts. He had to admit to himself that he was expecting to find an abundance of romance novels though he was now faced with more science books than even he owned. There was a small section of novels that were all well read, though each of them had some link to reality in a way.

Sherlock glanced around truly seeing Molly’s life for the first time. There were pictures of her friends and family dotted around the place. She had made a mention of her father being gone just before his fall but Sherlock had never thought how large her family was. From the group photo framed on the wall Molly had three brothers and a sister. Their mother was a plump woman with a kind but sad face.

Still seeing all of her happiness in the room didn’t hurt him as much as seeing the mess that was shattered in the flat. A ceramic vase was in pieces on the floor stained with blood. The coffee table had been knocked over and there were clear signs the struggle had started in the bedroom.

John held his hand over his mouth, stepping out from the kitchen. “Her cat is um . . . dead.”

The words didn’t really go in to Sherlock he wasn’t listening. There was something happening to him as he looked at the scene. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was, no he was sure. He had felt it before, the fear. Twice in the past he had felt it, on the roof of St Bart’s with his friends lives in danger Sherlock felt it. Then again last year when John had been placed into a bonfire. It was fear, a true fear of something happening to someone he cared for.  

“So any clues to where she might be?” John asked trying to decipher the look on his friend’s face.

“No. there is nothing only that he is about my height, he has a slight limp in his left leg, I can’t see anything else. John this man he knows how to hide.”

“Well he isn’t hiding that well he didn’t tidy up after himself.”

“But there is no evidence of him.”

“I get it, physically evidence of him, DNA right?” he nodded to the Doctor.

There was silence as Sherlock continued to dart his eyes around the room.

“So?” john finally asked.

*-*-*-*

Cold metal pressed against Molly’s face and her eyes flashed open. Michael was above her.

“Good morning.” His grin was different, not lustful like it normally was. Molly felt a new fear fill her. Michael pulled Molly from the bed and threw her to the ground. He put the gun on the side board before crouching down to her side.

“We’re going to play a new game today.” He ran a hand up her bare arm, sending a shiver of disgust through Molly. “I’m bored of your flesh, it’s so perfect, barely any flaws. You have taken very good care of yourself haven’t you Molly?”

She looked up at him, keeping her mouth straight. She felt the edge of the knife scraping along her skin. Then the burn of it sliding into the flesh. He tried to keep quiet holding the scream inside her mouth.

“Come on Molly give me what I want.” She still wouldn’t open her mouth.

The knife moved her right shoulder and again the burn seared into Molly’s flesh, her blood was warm as it dripped off her. The knife continued its exploration of her body. The tip would dip into the flesh at times sending ripples of shocked pain through her. Michael took hold of her hands the dragged her to edge of the bed. There were more handcuffs attached to the foot board that he now clamped around Molly’s wrists. Her face pressed against the wood.

“You know all the other girls had broken by now, they would scream and scream. I never thought you would have so much strength.” There was laughter in his voice as he ran the blade down her back. He was cutting into her not caring where he sliced. This went on until there was barely an inch of her back left untouched. When Michael was satisfied with his work he slid himself below Molly so that her legs straddled him. He made no effort to help her with comfort but pulled her down onto him, entering her dry and causing Molly to let out a squeak of pain. He laughed.

“There you go, doesn’t it feel better when you cry out?” he had his hands on her hips and was moving her body to suit his own pleasure. “I’m bored of doing the work, why don’t you do this time.”

Molly didn’t know why she complied too the request but slowly she began to work her own body. Moving up and down along his length. Her own body began to compensate for the dryness self-lubricated around him. Her arms were around his neck and she used her elbows to take her weight. The pain of her back got worse with each movement but she knew what she had to do. Molly could see it in his eyes, Michael was almost over the edge. She quickened her pace, dropping her head to his shoulder so her breath would wave across his neck. It worked effectively and soon Michael came to his end. He didn’t move straight away but sat still his hands holding onto Molly as her head rested on his shoulder. They were both panting. For the smallest seconds Molly could almost pretend they loved each other in that moment. Michael’s hand moved to her back gripping the broken skin. Molly clenched her body at the pain that seared over her.  Michael lifted her off of him and left the room, leaving her still cuffed to the bed and bleeding.

He returned some time later, showering her and dressing the wounds. He didn’t say anything to her but left the plate of food beside the bed. Molly didn’t want to eat but she knew if she didn’t she would lose any fight left in her.

Sitting up she waved her eyes across the room seeing the pools of her own blood drying on the carpet. She hadn’t noticed the other patches of dried blood before but now it was ever apparent to her. Then I moment of elation fell over her. There on the side board was the gun. He made a mistake. Sherlock always said that serial killers eventually made a mistake. This was his mistake. Finding a new surge of strength inside her Molly darted to the bathroom where she grabbed a white towel. The rough material scrapped at her back but she knew she had to ignore it. With a few movements the towel was secured around her body and she was holding the gun in her hand.

Molly hadn’t held a gun for a long time but she was sure she knew how to use it. Greg had taken her to shooting range some years ago and taught her how to fire. Molly felt glad of her detective inspector friend and wished he could be beside her now. She tried the door but it didn’t work, it was locked. There had to be a way out.

Then it dawned on her, though she was going to have to wait.


	5. Chapter 5

“Sherlock good you’re back, look there are no connections between the girls but we got something else.”

Sherlock said nothing but waited for the inspector to continue. He pulled an old file out and handed it to him.

“It was when I first met her, before you were even here, Sherlock.”

“I see, she was just out of school, her first job. She knew what you didn’t.” Sherlock spoke as he read the file, John’s eyes darted between them.

“I couldn’t believe it the pattern she saw, no one else could have found it. Well you could have but no one else back then. She knew him too seems like he has changed his MO this time.”

“His MO?” John asked, wanting more information.

“First time round he was killing for fun, honestly he could have been as smart as you Sherlock. Said he was doing experiments on how the drugs effected the body. He killed men and women it didn’t matter. But Molly saw the pattern and she found his mistake.”

John furrowed his brow.

“She found the puncture wounds, realised the size of the needles,” Sherlock was answering the look, “she knew exactly who could acquire the needle and so found the killer.”

John watched Sherlock’s eyes sparkle and his lips curl into a smile. Was he impressed by the pathologist’s deductions?

“Turns out he went missing from prison a year ago our girls started going missing soon after.” Lestrade lent against his desk as he spoke.

“Ok so how does that help us find Molly?” John asked.

“He has changed his MO it’s not going to be easy.” As if it had been cued Sherlock’s phone made a distinct noise and he glanced down at the screen. John narrowed his eyes remembering who had set that tone almost four years ago. Sherlock read the text and turned. He waved a hand telling the other two men to stay in their place.

The detective stormed from Scotland Yard and into a car that was waiting for him.

“Hello darling.” Her voice still danced into Sherlock’s ears. He let his eyes wonder down to her legs, they were crossed and covered with sheer silk stockings. A pair of designer heels hugged her feet and the black dress barely covered her thighs.

“Miss Adler.” He spoke without looking to her face.  “Why are you here?”

“Dinner. I thought we should have dinner.” Sherlock rounded his eyes to hers and gave her that sarcastic look he had. Irene raised an eyebrow at him before continuing.

“I have information for you. Regarding the girls that have gone missing.” She handed him a box that had been on her lap. It was wrapped in simple blue paper with string around it.

“Who is it from?”

“From him. I am sure by now you have come the conclusion of who is.” Sherlock nodded his head. “This is his gift for you. Welcoming you to the game.”

“How are you involved?”

Irene lowered her gaze to her knees, “I can’t tell you. But I do know that there is a reason he has sent you this. He almost finished and he wants you to catch him.”

“Almost finished?”

“The girl he has is the one he was practicing for. All the other girls were tests to see how long he could make it last.”

Sherlock’s mouth ran dry, he coughed trying to clear his throat. “Make what last?”

“Oh no, oh dear god, you know her don’t you Mr Holmes”

Sherlock looked at the woman meeting her eyes. If it had been anyone he knew there was no sign of his fear for Molly Hooper, but _the woman_ was not any normal person. She saw it written all over his face.

“What is she to you?”

“A colleague, a friend.”

Irene’s eyes showed all of her concern for him in that moment, she put her hand on his, but Sherlock withdrew from her touch. “She is more than a friend isn’t she?”

“I do not do anything else, Miss Adler you are well aware of that.”

“You’ve never looked like that before.”

“Where is she? Do you know?”

Irene let her eyes drop. Sherlock slowly pulled on the string and then the paper before opening the box she had given him. Inside was a mass of fabric. He held it up confused for just a moment. He knew who this belonged to, there was a piece of the same material in Molly’s flat. It had ripped in the struggle. This was Molly’s nightdress. Sherlock’s eyes flickered, though he wasn’t sure what emotion filled him.

“If I knew anything else, I would tell you.”

Sherlock moved his body so he filling most of the back seat and leant close to Irene. She back herself back into the seat and waited for him to speak.

“Tell me everything you know or they will never find your body.” he whispered the words into her ear and it filled Irene with more fear than ever.

“There is a subway entrance near the royal bank, then a service door, go through there she’ll be inside somewhere. That’s all I know.”

Sherlock sat back in his chair typing out a message on his phone. “Your driver will take us there.” Irene nodded to the driver and he started the engine.

*-*-*-*

 

The door to Molly’s room opened slowly, Michael looked at the bed his eyes narrowing. He supposed Molly must be in the bathroom and so stepped in with worrying. He didn’t see it coming, the butt of the gun came down on the side of his head and he fell to the floor. Molly held tightly to the gun as she stepped over his now unconscious body and into the hall. There wasn’t much light and it wasn’t a house. Where ever she found herself was cold, hard and made of concrete. Her bare feet were unstable as she moved and she held on hand against the wall. Tears were falling from her eyes again as she saw the large metal door at the end of the corridor, she knew if she could just get there she could find a way out.

A heavy weight came down on her back and brought Molly to the ground. She turned herself round and found Michael on top of her. The gun was still in her hand and she lifted it to his face. But Michael was strong and his hands came down on her with force. The gun slipped from her fingers she felt her wrist snap under the pressure of his hand. Finally she screamed out in pain and he laughed.

“That was very naughty Miss Hooper. I like it. Come on back to the bedroom.” He stood up, blood was streaming from his head where she had hit him.  Molly had found a new force inside her and she pulled back against him. She kicked her legs out and punched with her good hand. He lost his grip for a moment and she ran.

Molly didn’t know what happened next, there was a loud noise behind her then the coldness of the floor slapped against her face. It took a few moments for the pain in her shoulder to reach her brain. But when it did the pain filled every part of her. Michael grabbed her up around the waist and pulled her from the floor. The force of it caused every wound on her body scream at her. Michael had no care for her wellbeing and marched back to the bedroom. Molly still struggled against him as she was dropped to the floor. The towel that had been covering her fell exposing her flesh once more.

Michael dropped the gun beside her and pulled the knife holding it against Molly’s neck. She stopped fighting against him and lay still.

“you shouldn’t have done that Molly, it was going so well we had at least  a week left before you had to die but now, now im going to kill you and im going to make it hurt.”

Molly let out a cry, tears unstoppable. She didn’t want to die and she didn’t want to die like this. She felt the blade starting to press into the skin on her neck.

Then Molly did something she never thought she would do, she relaxed. For some reason Molly accepted her fate and stopped fighting against it. She put one thought into her mind, the thought of the man who had been her one real love for so many years.  She had been there for him when he needed her most and now she would put a picture of him in her mind. She held on to it, one of the only times he had ever smiled at her, she knew the smile was a fake one and he was just trying to get something out of her. But she liked that smile and she held on to it.

Molly held so tight to the picture she didn’t notice the Michael’s weight fall hard against her body. The weight was dead and unmoving but Molly’s eyes were closed.

There were voices all around her but they were distant, in another room Molly thought. The weight on her lessened, in fact it was gone. Then arms wrapped around her, she felt the towel on her skin.

“Molly? Molly open your eyes.” That voice was so familiar. It had been this close once before but only once. Molly didn’t want to open her eyes, she didn’t want to lose the picture in her mind. A hand lightly gripped her face. “Molly please open your eyes!”

Her eyelids fluttered open and there he was the picture hadn’t gone, he was holding on to her.

Wait.

He was holding her.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes Molly I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

She felt his warm breath on her skin and it soothed her.

“Sherlock I . . . I can’t I-” molly didn’t finish her sentence, her mind had lost interest in life and had gone black. Sherlock lifted her up holding her as close to his body as he could. “John, John she’s passed out.”

“Its ok Sherlock, let’s just get her out of here.”


	6. Chapter 6

When molly’s eyes opened she was lying in a hospital bed on her side. Her knees were drawn up close to her body. Looking down at her arms she saw the bandage wrapping one and a needle in the other. There was a dull distant pain in her body that she knew was being held back by morphine. Molly tried to remember what had happened, she made a small whimper as she attempted to move. A gentle hand pressed onto her hers. She looked up to see the nurse.

“Hello sweet. Nice to see you awake. Don’t try to sit up yet dear you’re going to be very sore for a while. You’ve been very lucky, and what a lovely boyfriend you’ve got.” Molly furrowed her brow at the nurse at those words, she didn’t have a boyfriend. A door opened and closed somewhere behind her and she heard a familiar voice.

“Any change nurse?”

“Yes she’s awake, be gentle with her though.” The kind nurse left and for a moment Molly caught a glimpse of long legs stretched out before John came into her view.

“Hello Molly. How are you feeling?”

“I-I think I’m ok.” Her mouth was dry. “What happened?”

The doctor’s face went glum, he knew that question was coming. “How much do you remember?”

Molly thought for a while, the long day at work, going home, getting into bed, the man, something hit her head and then a room and a bed.

“I was taken.” Was all she could say tears flowed freely from her eyes as she looked at her friend.

“Yea, you were, but don’t worry we found you, well he found you.” John gestured to the man behind him, Molly could see who it was now. Sherlock Holmes was asleep in the hard hospital chair her heart gave a little flutter seeing his face so serine. “Shit Molly what he did to you was just. . .” his hand gripped hers, “but you’re ok now, everything is healing well, I wouldn’t be surprised if they let you go home in a couple of days.”

Molly didn’t know why the thought of going home made her shudder that way, but fear filled her.

“Tell you what I’ll go get you some water shall I?”

Molly nodded, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Sherlock?”

“Oh yeah, he’s been really weird since we found you.” John tried to give a laugh with his words. “Barely leaves you actually, you should have seen him when we realised where you were. Stormed into that place like a tornado. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry, he had my gun, the browning. I was behind him a bit, didn’t get to you for a whole minute after him I guess Sherlock had shot the guy and was holding on to you. Shit there was so much blood Molly, what that bastard did to you.”

“He came for me?”

“Yeah Molly you know he has pulled me out of some bad scrapes but the way he was holding you I’ve never seen him so . . .” he looked for the word, “. . .human.” John checked over his shoulder to look at the detective. “It was like he was . . . well I don’t know really, like he had found something so precious to him.” The army doctor was searching his own mind trying to fit it all together. “Anyway he hasn’t left the hospital since we got here. He keeps saying that he needs to be here when you wake up. It took him a long time to work this one out I think he might feel responsible for it.”

“That would mean he felt something, he doesn’t have feelings.” Molly laughed with a cough.

“Yeah I’ve been told. I’ll go get you that water.” John got up and moved across the room giving Sherlock’s feet a kick as he passed. The detective’s eyes jolted open and he scowled at the disappearing back of John Watson. He flicked his gaze to Molly not expecting to see her looking back at him. His mouth dried as he stood and moved towards her.

“John told me what you did for me.” Molly attempted to keep her voice steady.

“Molly I . . . I should have found you sooner.”  Sherlock bent his knees so he was face to face with Molly, his face was full of angst. “It took me so long to even. I mean I pride myself on noticing and I didn’t I was to wrapped up in my own and John he said it but I . . . Molly I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”

Molly realised then that she didn’t know how long Michael had had her captive. She asked the detective her voice hardly audible.

“Just over a month. We all thought you were ill. There was an email from you to the hospital. I should have seen it sooner, you would never email in a sickness.”

“Sherlock it’s ok, maybe you were just tired. You have been working a lot lately you should take some time off.” Molly was sure he was only upset that his distinct skill of deduction had failed him for a moment. Sherlock accepted her words wanting to believe the same fact. Looking into the girl’s face Sherlock felt something he hadn’t felt in a while. He was ashamed of himself, he had disappointed the girl in front of him and they both knew it.

“Is he? I mean Michael what-?”

“Dead, I shot him.” Sherlock’s voice was matter-of-fact.

For a long moment the two sat in silence, their eyes locked into each other. Behind them John re-entered the room with a jug of water and three plastic tumblers.

“Oop, sorry you two didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No John it is fine.” Sherlock rose back up to his feet and went back to the chair.

With a little help from John Molly sat up, though she leant forward instead of back. She had tried to press herself against the pillows but her back remembered its torture and screamed at her. No one spoke to each other for a long time. John made a couple of phone calls letting people know Molly was awake; Molly took sips from her water cup and tried to concentrate on anything but the pain. Sherlock had clearly fallen into his mind palace. He was searching through it going through each of his encounters with the sweet, mousey pathologist. There had been a reason to why he was so worried about her. He wanted to settle on it being friendship, maybe he thought of her the same way as he thought of John. She had been his constant for so many years. Even during his two years of ‘death’ he had kept in contact with her. All be it little and just texts she was his lifeline to London. So it was a different friendship to the one he had with John. But what did that mean?  Why was it different?

Molly was glad to see Mary’s smiling face when she entered. Having another woman in the room relaxed her slightly. The word of her awakening got out swiftly and soon many people were poking their heads in to see her. Mary and John had left earlier to fetch her daughter from a friend’s home. Then her family started to arrive, her three brothers all arrived at the same time obviously having travelled together. They ignored Sherlock who sat with his hands under his chin and stared blankly at the empty space. Her sister rushed in thirty minutes later and flung her arms around Molly. She whimpered against the pain and Sherlock suddenly sat to attention and narrowed his eyes on the girl who looked too much like Molly.

She apologised and perched herself on the edge of the bed.

“Oh Molly how could this have happened to you? Mum told you not to move to London but you wouldn’t bloody listen would you?” Molly lowered her eyes, the girl had been like a mother since her real one had died. “And then you go and get yourself mixed up with all this police stuff. You couldn’t just be like everyone else and be a normal doctor?”

“Come on Jessie, that’s enough.” One of the brothers pleaded to the sister.

“No it’s not we told you something like this was going to happen! You never should have moved here. If you had stayed at home and been a normal GP like everyone wanted, if you didn’t have this stupid bloody obsession with death!”

“You should stop talking now!” Sherlock had stood to his full height and was close to the bed. Jessie rounded her gaze onto him her face showing only hate.

“As for you! Sherlock Holmes I presume. You drag her into your horrid life, lead her on giving her false hope about a relationship with you and then treat her like a child! You waltz around this city like you own it and everyone owes you something but you’re a bloody idiot!”

“Jessie!” one of the other brothers attempted to stop her.

“No this has to be said. Molly would have been fine if he had left her alone! If you had just been a normal person and told her you didn’t like her in the first place she would have moved home and then forgotten about. But instead you used her, you could have gotten her fired for helping you with that pathetic stunt of falling from the roof! You have no care for anyone but yourself and now you’ve basically gotten her killed!” Jessie was practically shouting at the detective and had circled round the bed to stand in front of him. She was much shorter than him but even Sherlock was intimidated by her. It was plain to see she was the oldest of the siblings and had been taking care of all of them for a long time.

“This was not because of me.” Sherlock stated.

“Don’t try and get out of this sonny. If you had left her alone Molly wouldn’t be so bloody curious about criminals!”

“Jessie shut the fuck up!” everyone turned to look at Molly who was openly crying. “Jessie you have no right to say those things to him! It was my fault that Michael came after me. I didn’t even know Sherlock when I first . . . I’m only alive because he found me! If it was for Sherlock I would be dead and rotting with the other girls he had taken before me!” her fists had curled into fists, and her sister was staring open mouthed at her. “Jessie I don’t want you here anymore, get out!”

Jessie started to protest but the biggest of the three brothers (Sherlock eventually found out his name was Darren) ushered her out of the room. The other two men followed them congratulating their sister for standing up to Jessie. When they were alone Molly sobbed into her hands. The sound tore into Sherlock and hit his stomach, churning it. He stepped a little closer to her.

“Molly perhaps I should go.”

“No.” she darted her gaze up to him, “please don’t leave.”

He sunk down into the plastic chair that was next to the bed his eyes fixed on to her as Molly cried. With a slight hesitation he reached a hand up to her arm. Molly flinched at the touch but relaxed quickly allowing Sherlock to take her hand.

“John and I have spoken and we think that perhaps you should not return to your flat. Mrs Hudson has agreed to fix up 221C for you. It is closer to St Barts and safer for you.”

Molly nodded knowing that there was probably no reason to fight against the man. She was happy about the move to be honest, she hadn’t really known her neighbours before and she knew that Mrs Hudson would keep an eye on her.

“All my stuff.” Her words broke through the sobs.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Toby?”

A lump caught in Sherlock’s throat, he didn’t know how to tell Molly her precious cat was dead. There had to be gentle with this, find the right words, he searched his mind for how to answer. It took too long, Molly looked to him and saw the pain in his eyes.

“No,” she whispered fresh tears burning her eyes. “He isn’t, oh god. Toby.” Sherlock squeezed her hand in an attempt to comfort her.


	7. Chapter 7

Molly had tried to settle into her new home in the basement flat of 221C Baker Street. She had to admit that the decorating John, Mary and Mrs Hudson had done in only a short amount of time was amazing. It had been painted in warm reds and deep greens. A book shelf had built into the far wall of the living room and held all of her books. A new sofa had been purchased, it was big and soft matching the colour of the walls. Molly had sunk into it on her first entrance to the flat and didn’t want to leave it. Two arm chairs had been placed in the living room wither side of a coffee table. The kitchen had been decked out in the latest equipment, a large range oven and an American fridge freezer had been installed along with a new coffee maker and electric kettle. The spare bedroom had been turned into a study and held a heavy wooden desk below the window and a brand new laptop waited for her on top of it. The master bedroom was fairly simple painted a pastel yellow colour with a large iron bed and the softest mattress Molly had ever slept on.

It had been a week since she had left the hospital and Molly had received a few visitors, mostly her family, a very sheepish Jessie had popped in for a cup of tea. But Molly hadn’t seen Sherlock for a while, even though John would check on her at least three times a day.

It was Sunday afternoon and Molly had fallen asleep on the sofa her TV talking away to itself. The dream started off normal, nice even.

  _She was walking through the streets of London with the sun shining down on her. She felt happy and serine as she stepped up to the flat door, her old flat. Above her the sky changed to black and grey clouds. Her heart beat faster as she opened the door. Everything was different about the little flat. The living room wasn’t there but a large wooden bed, a single chair in the corner and pools of dried blood on the floor. Then a voice sang out to her, an evil song taking hold of her. Two hands crept onto her shoulders sending a shiver down her spine. “No!”_

_“Yes!” Michael’s face came into view, his mouth turned up into the evil grin._

_“You’re dead.”_

_“Not in your dreams Molly. I’ll always have you here!” his hands gripped her throat and squeezed. There was nothing Molly could do she was completely at his mercy, her body buckled beneath her. How could this be happening again? She saw the glint of the knife as he raised it above her._

Molly jolted awake her whole body shaking with fear. The movement brought new pains to her broken body and tears fell from her eyes. The dream hadn’t completely left her yet and she looked around the room, feeling as though eyes were watching her.

She wasn’t sure if it was a person at her window or the movement of a shadow in the street above but Molly felt the urge to shut the curtains. She felt herself breathing heavily as she curled back onto the sofa tucking her legs up close to her body. With her head on her knees Molly cried.

*-*-*-*

Sherlock sat in his armchair plucking absentmindedly at the violin strings. His mind was going over everything that had happened for the twentieth time. He was sure there was something he had missed. There had to be something. There was a reason he had been so angry. Why would it effect his emotions in that way when he found out it was Molly who had been taken? She was a co-worker? He trusted her, enough to help him fake his death. That was professional admiration surely? Was she his friend? John had opened him up to the concept of friends and Sherlock had realised that he had at least three of them. Was she the fourth? Of course she was, he knew that. In a way she was the first, she had been the only one to accept him before John’s arrival. Lestrade had taken almost six months to really become at ease with the consulting detective but Molly the mousey pathologist had smiled and laughed and given him access to the lab without a second question. She fancied him that was her reasoning for it. What had he missed? All these years her loyalty to him had never faulted, even when he was cruel to her.

Letting out a long sigh he closed his eyes.

“John my laptop, or yours.”

John looked at him, and scoffed. “A please would be nice occasionally. You do realise both are right next to you?” he had got to his feet as he spoke and picked up the black laptop from the desk and placed it on Sherlock’s lap before going into the kitchen. He flicked on the kettle, knowing that Sherlock would be disappointed. He had already checked both their blogs and emails for a case. There was nothing, the newspapers were decidedly boring as well. It accrued to John then as to why his laptop was in the flat at all; he hadn’t remembered bringing it back to 221B after moving in with Mary two years ago. He shook it off as being one of those things that happened when your friends with Sherlock Holmes. John poured a cup of tea and set it down on the table beside Sherlock.

“You should drink that, I haven’t seen you have anything in a while. I’m going to check on Molly and then go to work.” Sherlock nodded his head, not really listening. “Have you seen her yet?”

“What?”

“Have you been down to Molly yet?” Sherlock shook his head, not taking his eyes from the computer. “she’s been here a week, after all the money you spent on making the flat as comfortable for her as possible you haven’t even spoke to her once.”

“As you say it is comfortable, why do I need to go there?”

“Because she needs you idiot. You saved her from that hell she was in, look I’ve been down there. She puts on a brave face Sherlock but she doesn’t want to see anyone else. I don’t think she even really knows it herself but you need to go and see her.”

Sherlock kept his face straight, though John noticed the tiny twitch below his left eye. He knew he had hit a note with the detective though he was not sure what it was. It was two hours before he moved from the chair, placing his laptop behind him. With a dry mouth he stepped down the stairs and knocked on the door to the basement flat. He waited for a moment but there was no answer.

Sherlock wasn’t sure what it was that bubbled inside his chest but he had a sudden need to be inside the flat. The door was unlocked and gave way to him instantly as he rushed down the few steps. He found Molly asleep on her sofa, she was breathing softly but her face was screwed into discomfort. For a moment he simply stood watching her.

When Molly’s eyes flickered open she heard the distinct sound of her door closing upstairs. She panicked for a moment not knowing where she was but the two voices above her eased her fear.

Mrs Hudson had pressed her mothering hand on Sherlock’s arm as he shut the door.

“She sleeping again? She does a lot of that, come in for tea dear?”

He didn’t answer her, it was rare for him to not abide her ruling when it was only the two of them around. Since John no longer lived at Baker Street Sherlock had spent more time in the ground floor flat with his land lady. He slumped into the hard chair by the door and rested his arms on the table as Mrs Hudson poured out two mugs of tea. She looked at him for a moment, looked at his thin frame, slimmer now, she saw it in his face.

“Sherlock dear, why don’t you tell her?”

“Tell who what, Mrs Hudson?”

“Oh I’ve been telling you for too long to call me Martha.” She put a mug in front of him and slipped into the other chair.

“Tell who what?” Sherlock asked again.

“You know I don’t think anyone else believes it, they’ve all seen it, suspected it. But I know you dear.”

“And?”

“And you should just tell her.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mrs Hudson laughed.

“Oh you, that poor girl down there, just tell her how you really feel.”

Sherlock chocked back a lump as he looked over at the land lady.

“How I feel?”

For a moment he fell quiet, she looked into his face waiting for him to catch up with their conversation.

“I cannot tell her of my feelings, when I do not understand what it is I am feeling.”

She laughed again, “its love you goose.”

He tilted his head and frowned at her.

“Please, I can see it in you. You forget we all saw how you were in that hospital, the way you stayed by her side all that time. You didn’t once correct the nurses when they mistook you for her boyfriend.”

“It seemed simpler that way. They would have forced me to leave her alone if I was anything less. It was convenient, Mrs Hudson.”

“Oh Sherlock,” she gave him her most mothering gaze and reached across the table to hold his hand. She was probably one of very few people whose touch he did not shy away from. “if only you would let yourself see it.”

“How do you know if you are in . . .” he couldn’t get the words out but Mrs Hudson knew what he was asking.

“Well it’s different for most people I suppose the intensity that is. But how do you feel when you look at her?”

She shook his head, clearly unable to decide.

“Does it make you happy to be close to her?”

“Happy? I mean she does lighten my mood when I go to the lab.” It was almost a question.

“Do your hands get all fidgety, and your heart race when you are near her?”

“Dilated pupils and racing pulse. That shows attraction, I see it in her when she looks at me.”

“Yes poor girl has been in love with you for a long time.”

“Poor girl? What do you mean by that?”

“Well you have treated her so badly, dear. The way you talk to her, I was so embarrassed that Christmas.”

Sherlock recalled that day how he had said the cruellest things to her. “I was that is to say when I thought she had prepared herself for a date it made me . . . angry no that’s not it.”

“Jealous?”

He looked at her, his head had started hurting. His chest tightened as he realised that yes he had been jealous. The day he saw Molly engagement ring he had been jealous again. But the first time was so long ago, the way her eyes had lit up when _Jim from It_ had strolled into the lab. He had been so happy to realise he was gay. Even if that had been a rouse. How had he missed this all this time?

“Mrs Hudson, when I am close to her I feel a force in my body, it goes through every part of m. I don’t know why but I want to put my arms around her, hold her close to me. I want to feel her skin against mine and-” he jumped to his feet almost knocking the table over. “I am married to my work, Mrs Hudson, everything else is a distraction! I cannot I do not have _feelings_ ”

“Ok dear, if you don’t want to do anything about it then you need to stop stringing her along. If she finds someone else you let her have him, don’t do anything to stop it. It will just hurt her more.”

Mrs Hudson had stood close to Sherlock and put her arms up around him. The detective melted into her embrace, much like a son with his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments and let me know what you think so far.   
> not sure how much longer this one will go on for but I think ill string it out before they get together....if they get a chance to !


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock had been gone from Baker Street for the last two days, he and John had gone to York on a case leaving Molly, Mrs Hudson and Mary alone. Under John’s request Mary had agreed to stay over with Mrs Hudson for the duration of their absence. Mary was capable of taking care of herself but she knew her husband’s real reasoning behind the move. She two was worried about Molly’s state of mind. The pathologist was still on medical leave from work, having requested to extend it by a few weeks. Her body was almost healed, but the scars on her back were still tender to touch.

Her television was spouting the inane babble of daytime viewing as she held a warm mug in her hands. Molly barely registered her visitors, they would walk in sometimes make themselves tea and talk to her for an hour or so. She didn’t really take in what they were saying. So it was no surprise when she took no notice of Sherlock entering the room. He frowned as he looked at her, she wasn’t the Molly he remembered. Without saying a word he made two new mugs of tea. He swapped the mug in Molly’s hand for a new one and settled himself down beside her.

Sherlock didn’t feel the need to talk to her, he knew that somewhere inside her broken mind Molly had registered his presence. It was made clearer to him when she gently shuffled her body across the sofa so her head rested on his shoulder. After a few moments of the touch Sherlock changed them again. In swift movements that didn’t really register in her mind, Sherlock had moved them both. He was now lying on the sofa with her body beside him, her head was pressed against his chest and his arms around her. Without saying a word both fell into a peaceful sleep.

Neither of them heard the soft footsteps of the woman as she tiptoed around them. There was a clear distain in her eyes as she looked at Molly. How could this mousey little Doctor have enthralled the mind of Sherlock Holmes? He was brilliant and she was nothing. Though there was something almost pretty about the girl, it wouldn’t take a lot for her to become beautiful, the right make-up and well-fitting clothes. Well not ones that showed her back that was going to be far to scared when the bandages finally came off. She let a long sigh before setting to her work. The little black box she held contained a note and several syringes. Her instructions in case of his death. She took the first syringe out and held it to Molly’s neck.

Something stopped her from doing it, two piercing eyes started at her.

“What are you doing _woman?”_

She swallowed hard. “Sherlock, I can’t do it.” he looked at her, pulling his arms tighter around Molly.

“You have no idea how much I want to do this, she has you and I don’t. Why?”

“You should leave now, I will contact you when I am ready.”

“They will kill me if I don’t do this. It is my life over hers Sherlock.”

Neither of them spoke for what felt the longest time. Molly stirred under him causing Sherlock to loosen his grip on her. He barely noted the woman’s absence from his side or the clacking of her expensive shoes on the stairs.

Suddenly Molly was making noise, her body was convulsing and she moved rapidly. Sherlock strained to hear her words.

“No, Michael stop it. Help me, please. Sherlock, no!” finally she let out a long scream opening her eyes. Still caught in her dream Molly felt the arms around her and panicked she kicked out and thrashed her fists against his chest.

“Molly, it’s me please. Molly it was a dream.”

Molly shoved herself backwards tumbling off the sofa and retreated to the far side of the room. Her eyes were allowing tears to fall as she cowered against the wall. Her eyes finally settling upon Sherlock. He stood up visibly shaken by her actions.

“Molly?” he stepped over to her and knelt down taking her back into his arms, she sobbed into his chest.

“He was here, he had me, I couldn’t move.”

“It’s ok, I’m here no one can get to you.” Without really understanding why he was doing it Sherlock cradled her in his arms as she cried. He felt her body stop shaking and eventually her tears subsided. Her hand had clamped down on to the lapel of his suit jacket. For a moment Sherlock marvelled at how her small frame fitted so perfectly onto his lap.

Her head moved back so she was looking up at him.

“You can’t stay with me forever, you have cases you have to go on.” There was panic in her voice.

“I will never leave you unprotected Molly. You never have to feel alone again.”

“I know that’s why you had Mary here, I don’t know who she is really do I?”

Sherlock smiled, “I have always seen how smart you are as a pathologist but why did I never see your wonderful deduction skills?”

Molly looked at him confused.

“You saw his pattern before anyone else did the first time he was killing people. Even before I came along, lestrade had the best help he could ever have asked for. You would have made a wonderful detective, Molly Hooper.”

She laughed at that, but it wasn’t the laugh Sherlock remembered. Neither did her eyes shine in that childlike way they had done before. The detective felt a twinge of sadness at the sight before him.

“We need to get you back to your old self doctor Hooper.” She didn’t answer him. Fr the longest time she simple stayed her body heavy and warm against him holding him tight to her. Her eyes wondered down the red scare on her forearm. Fresh tears started to pool in her eyes. Sherlock saw the movement and took hold of her arm laying a gentle kiss on the scare. He lifted Molly up into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. After covering her body with the blankets he knelt down beside the bed looking into her eyes.

“I wish I could give you what you want from me, Molly.” There was pain all over his face.

“What can you give me?” her voice was nothing more than whisper.

“Protection.”

She nodded her head, knowing that was the only thing she really wanted at the moment anyway. Her dream was still hanging around her mind and she knew she wasn’t going to fall asleep again. In silence she watched Sherlock’s back disappear into the other room and tried to close her eyes. It wasn’t any good the moment they closed Michael’s evil grin flashed at her. That was when it dawned on her how she had woken up. Arms around her, whose arms? She had thought it was Michael at first but it wasn’t. She had been lying on the sofa, asleep. A vague memory of Sherlock manoeuvring her body danced back to her. He had been holding her, cuddling her as they slept. Molly couldn’t decide what that meant. All she knew was that he had come for her he had saved her, and then he had arranged for this flat to be made perfect. He ensured she was never alone for long periods of time.

Her mobile phone was on the side table and she reached for it, she typed out a message and sent it. It was answered almost instantly by Sherlock throwing open the door.

“What’s wrong?” he darted over to the bed. “What do you need?” he repeated her words.

“you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't get to excited its not going be plain sailing for these two! there is a lot more to come!   
> leave your comments please!


	9. Chapter 9

When Molly woke up again she could feel a strong arm relaxed over her and a face pressed against the back of her head. Holding her breath and looking down she was relieved to see it was the arm of Sherlock Holmes. She let out a small breath not sure what emotion was filling her. Then there was movement on the bed and a sharp pain the back of her neck. Molly turned her head to look back.

“Oh no, no, no Miss Hooper, you stay right there, don’t worry you won’t remember this.”  The woman’s hand smoothed Molly’s hair as she slowly felt her eyes closing again.

Sherlock’s hands gripped onto Irene’s shoulders and threw her backwards from the bed. The woman landed heavily on the floor and he was quickly above her.

“What are you doing?”

She smirked up at him. “You sleep so heavily next to her, I’ve been in here for nearly twenty minutes.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and burrowed in to her.

“Why are you doing this?” he hissed out the words.

“What makes you love her?”

“I do not love, I am beyond _feelings_ you of all people should remember that.”

“Dinner?”

“I will kill you Irene!”

She held her breath for a moment, “oh I don’t doubt it for a second, look at how you protect her.”

Sherlock felt something sharp dig into his chest. His body though tolerant to most drugs could not fight off the new weight of his limbs. His eyes blurred as his heavy head slumped forward. Irene held his face between her hands placing a kiss on his lips.

“I learnt so much from that little Michael. I’m going to make her ugly, you won’t want her anymore.”

The detective couldn’t answer his voice was stuck in his throat. She moved her body and his so she was straddling him, his own body sprawled limp on the ground.

“I am the woman who beat you, and I will be the woman who broke you, Sherlock Holmes.” She bent forward laying another kiss on his lips, there was no strength left in him to pull away though his body screamed against the touch of her lips.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this, sleep now Mr Holmes I’ll see you again.”

The last thing he saw was the blurred figure of the woman moving back across to Molly on the bed before his eyes went black.

*-*-*-*

“Well the last I saw he was going down to Molly, he must still be down there, I haven’t heard any noise for some time.” Mrs Hudson was absentmindedly pouring out mugs of tea as John and Mary sat in her kitchen. Their daughter was playing at their feet. None of them heard the buzzer at first, it was for the lower flat. After a few minutes it moved to the other ones, Mrs Hudson had made sure the doorbell for Sherlock’s flat rang in her own. She knew how he hated hearing it. The landlady wondered towards the door, leaving Mary to take over the tea making duties.

It was Molly’s eldest brother with a large bunch of flowers. Mrs Hudson let him in without a question and showed him to the door of the basement flat. He went down and she went back to the kitchen.

“He came in here some time ago was telling me all sorts of things and I told him I could see he had feelings for her, that we all could but he wouldn’t admit it.”

John laughed. “Of course he wouldn’t, even if he admitted to himself he wouldn’t act on it. He so bloody stubborn1” molly slapped his arm and gave him a scolding look for swearing in front of their daughter. She was starting to pick up words quickly and they didn’t want her hearing ‘bad words’ as Mary put it. John gave her an apologetic grin and then rolled his eyes to Mrs Hudson. The shared a laugh between the three of them.

“There is no one down there!” Molly’s brother appeared at the kitchen door, his breath racing slightly. John leapt to his feet. Something told him Sherlock and Molly hadn’t gone for a walk. He ran down to the basement flat and scanned around.

In the bedroom there were clear signs of a struggle taking place, a side board had been knocked and several of the items on top were now on their sides. John felt his throat dry, over the years of working with Sherlock he had started to pick some of his tricks. He knew they had been taken.

“There was at least three other people in here, they carried them out into the living room-” everyone followed him as he marched to the next room. “There! They were handed out onto the street through the window.”

Molly’s brother caught his breath. “Are you saying she’s been taken again? I thought the guy had been killed?”

“I guess he had someone else working with him.” John answered, “Mary call-”

“Already on it!” Mary had her mobile to her ear phoning through to Lestrade. An air of panic heated the flat.

*-*-*-*

Sherlock felt the burning in his shoulders, telling him his arms were pulled out to his sides. His eyes didn’t want to open, the light was already stinging them. With a grunt he forced them open looking down at a tiled floor. He was on his knees.

“Ah, you’re awake dear. Finally, I thought you were going to miss the party.”

Sherlock lifted his head, the stark light of the room causing him to squint. Irene Adler was standing in front of him. No shoes on, but a tight red dress, not just red, blood red, matching her lipstick.

“oh yes, you’re noticing the colour of my dress, it’s simple really dear, I don’t want to ruin anything too much, blood will be less seen on this one. Look little Molly is waiting for us to start, shall I wake her up? Should I use the riding crop, that you so enjoyed?”

Sherlock opened his mouth to talk but there was a dryness to his throat.

“Oh no, sorry I’ve made sure you can’t talk, don’t want you giving her any moral support do we.”  Irene rose up to her full height moving across the room, Sherlock looked around, it was clinical. A hospital perhaps? No, she couldn’t do this in a hospital. His head was still hazy, too hazy to work properly. Irene let out a little laugh.

“It’s a butcher’s shop Mr Holmes. But no one is going to find us, I made sure of that.”  Irene was circling Molly, she had been tied at the wrist hooked over a meat hook and suspended. The woman ran her leather gloved hand across her body. “Shall we cut off this silly cotton? She was naked for so long before I doubt she is shy.”

Sherlock tried to speak again, managing only a painful growl.

“We could play a game, we do so love to play with each other don’t we Mr Holmes?” She crouched once more in front of Sherlock taking his head in her hands. “How about I cut off her clothes and then slice of her skin? You won’t like her if she doesn’t have any skin.” Irene let out a small laugh, “on second thought you might like her more, and we could do experiments on her. You like experiments don’t you Sherlock? We could well I could cut into her and see how long it takes for her to die.” Irene went back Molly lifting a pair of scissors from the sterile trolley. Without looking back at Sherlock she cut through the back of Molly’s cotton t-shirt, parting the grey material to show the large dressing.

Irene glanced over to the only man she had ever loved and ripped the bandage from Molly’s back, bringing the pathologist out of unconsciousness. Molly let out a scream. It took no time for her to realise what was happening. Had it all been a dream, the rescue by her consulting detective just a fantasy she had made up to cope? Then she heard the voice.

“What do you think we could make this into a very pretty picture? All these scars sprinkled with new blood.”

Sherlock fought against the chains that were holding his arms from his body, and caught Molly’s eyes. He tried to plead to her with his eyes. They looked to each other holding onto the little peace they could find in each other as Irene laughed.

“Oh dear god, it’s worse than I thought. It’s not just a little crush is it, Mr Holmes?” she was twirling a large knife in her hands, clearly used for chopping large animal carcases. She pressed the cold metal against Molly’s back, the pressure forced Molly to stiffen herself. She was ready for this pain though it was nothing new to her. The knife split the skin on her back, slicing through the older wounds. Though her eyes betrayed her and let tears fall, molly didn’t call out, she kept her eyes fixed on Sherlock’s.

After a few minutes of working new stripes in to her back, Irene dropped the knife to the tiled floor, blood dripped onto it.

“What shall we do next?” she was asking the room, running her fingers across the butcher equipment. “Shall I cut that pretty face of hers? Molly dear,” she curled her fingers around Molly’s chin pulling her gaze away from the detective. “It is such a shame you were not bolder, little doctor. You would have made a wonderful experiment. I could have enjoyed it just as much as you.”

Sherlock was trying to clear his throat, making pained growls and grunts behind her. Irene continued to talk to Molly.

“You should be thankful Michael took you, you know. If he hadn’t our consulting detective would have gone on thinking those little bubbles in his stomach were an involuntary admiration of your work. You are very clever Doctor Hooper the smarted witch of your age.” The ex dominatrix laughed at her Harry Potter reference before planting her lips directly against Molly’s. Molly couldn’t help it, she took in every piece of information she could from that kiss. The way Irene’s lips moved against hers, the taste of the tongue that moved against hers. The pathologist was trying to find some fault in her attackers armour, though there was none. When the kiss was finished Irene turned back to Sherlock.

“There now, she’s been utterly violated so recently. Ooh that gives me an idea.” She reached for her mobile, her red nails clacked against the plastic. “Maybe that is the way to break you both.”

She didn’t do much over the next few minutes except take laps of the room. Like a tiger surveying her pray, Sherlock was sure she could even hear low purrs coming from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is getting a bit dark, let me know what you think all comments welcome.   
> thanks for sticking with me!   
> x


	10. Chapter 10

Molly couldn’t have felt anymore sick if she wanted to when the large men stepped into the room. Irene clapped her hands together and skipped across the room laying her hands around bother their shoulders leading them further into the room.

Sherlock looked to them and then at Molly, his heart was beating so much he thought it might leap from his chest. Her mouth had closed as she tried to hold back her tears. They both knew what was coming. Irene had been talking to the men in a hushed tone before she stepped up to Sherlock.

He bent down so she was the same height, her knees resting on the ground.

“I want you to watch this, Mr Holmes. I told you I would break her and I always keep my promises.” Sherlock moved his head and closed his eyes, how could he watch this? The woman gripped his face and turned his head. “Keep those pretty eyes open, maybe I can break you at the same time.”

In front of him, the two men were pawing at Molly’s body, they were removing her clothes roughly whilst slapping at her face and back. At first Molly didn’t fight, she had endured this and more from Michael, but as two pairs of hands started to grope at her flesh something told her not to take it, using the leverage of the meat hook she drew her legs up and kicked out at the two men. They both staggered back slightly as she hit them, rewarding her with heavier punches.

“Sherlock!” she found her voice, “I need you!” she screamed out, Sherlock’s body went rigid.  Irene must have seen it in his eyes because she was reeling back from him. There was a strength in Sherlock that he hadn’t used for a long time. A resolve to remove the bonds that held him. The chains seemed no match for the adrenaline that was coursing through his body and they snapped from the walls. Sherlock made no trouble of leaping across the room and on to the first man. He was bigger than the detective but he was not as well versed in fighting. His head cracked against the ground leaving a mess of flash and blood spilling out.  

The second man was more aware of the force about to hit him and so it took more to fight him. Sherlock threw punches into his face and chest whilst receiving blows to his own. Sherlock tasted blood in his mouth from the force of a fist hitting him. Not that it slowed him down. His arms were tangled with the brutes as they struggled for dominance.

Molly was watching but she couldn’t tell what was happening, the two men’s bodies moved to erratically for her to keep up. When the pair finally slumped to the ground for a moment she wondered if Sherlock was going to get back up. But his arms were around her in seconds. Gently lifting her from the meat hook and sliding to the ground. Molly sobbed into his chest.

Sherlock didn’t need to check to know Irene was no longer there. She had scuttled out of the room the moment Sherlock had freed himself.

The detective pulled his phone from his pocket and started to dial 999, Molly’s hand on his stopped him.

“No, no hospitals.”

“But Molly you’re hurt.”

“Just take me home, please take me home.”

Sherlock nodded, helped Molly to pull her sweat pants back on and wrapped his suit jacket around her body.

Stepping out into the street Sherlock was surprised to see they were so close to Baker Street. Just around the corner in fact. He turned to Molly.

“Do you think you can walk it?” she nodded, her eyes half closed.

With his arm around her he led the way. It became apparent to him that their presence had been missed with the deafening sounds of the police cars out side 221. Bracing himself and tightening his grip on Molly he reached the door. A pair of arms clung around them both and he heard the panicked sobs of his land lady.

“We are ok, just please let us in.” the words were strained and grated in his throat.

Moments later they were sitting on the sofa in Sherlock’s flat, he still held Molly tight to his chest. Her body was curled and clamped against him.

“Sherlock? You need to let go of her so I can examine her, come on mate.” Sherlock blinked apparently re-entering the room. He loosened his grip on the pathologist, looking down into her eyes reassuring her it was ok to let John touch her. Molly winced as he applied a numbing cream to her skin. Mary sat herself in front of Sherlock and was tending to his minor wounds. The cut to his cheek hurt the most.

Mrs Hudson was clutching the Watson’s daughter, as Molly’s brother paced the room. Greg stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Th-the woman.” Sherlock coughed out the drug Irene had given to stop his speech was still humming in him.

“What?” John’s head sprang up to look at his friend. Mary glanced between the two men, remembering the nickname from John’s blog.

“Irene Adler.” Sherlock clarified.  

“Wait a minute isn’t she dead?! Greg screwed up his face, “my god you bastard you helped her didn’t you?”

“A mistake I will never forgive myself for.”

“Right, I’ll get the boys on it. Soon as you two are ready I need statements.”

Everyone nodded to each other and went their separate ways. Eventually Molly was taken back down to her own bed, Sherlock settled himself on to her sofa whilst her brother went off to call the rest of the family. John and Mary decided it would be best if they stayed at Backer Street for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this was a short one but there is more angst coming, this isn't going to be easy on either of them.   
> comments please! will upload next chapter as soon as possible!


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock had thought it was safe, that Mrs Hudson would be able to take care of Molly with the inspector checking in. so he was happy to take the case outside of London. It would only take three days, four at the most he had practically solved it already.

So when john and he entered 221 he was confused to see his land lady looking so forlorn. The detective felt his mouth dry as he looked at her.

“Oh Sherlock. I couldn’t help it, they are her family and they insisted.”

“What?” John was taking his time to catch on.

“They took her? Her sister Jessie, she will be at her home in York.”

“What? How could they just… and she went with them?”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” Mrs Hudson answered John, “they sort of dragged her out.”

Sherlock turned and went up to his own flat. On hearing the door slam john said goodbye to the old woman and left for his own home. He had to admit even he felt empty at the pathologist’s absence.

Inside his bedroom Sherlock looked down at his phone, twisting it between his fingers. Finally resting on his decision he dialled the number and waited for Molly to answer.

He had no luck for it was Jessie who picked up the phone.

“What do you want?”

“To speak to Molly.”

“No. she isn’t talking to you anymore. All of this is your fault and she deserves to recover and live a normal life.”

“Her life is more than nor-”

“Don’t even try it, Sherlock Holmes. Don’t call her again, she isn’t your concern any more. She is so much better off without you.”

Sherlock didn’t have a chance to argue his point further, the line was cut off and he was left with his mind shaken.

John was glad he didn’t live at Baker Street anymore. From what Mrs Hudson had told him; his former flat mate was unbearable. He would scrap the bow across his violin in drastically mournful melodies at all times of the day and night. The kitchen had gone through a barrage of attacks, leaving many of the cupboard doors hanging off their hinges and plates broken on the floor.

The doctor made his way gingerly up to the flat and knocked on the door. There was no answer so he let himself expecting to be attacked by a pillow or jack knife. Instead he was hit only by the strong smell of stale cigarettes. John looked at the full ashtray on the coffee table and frowned. He knew exactly what was upsetting his friend. Sherlock was curled up in his grey leather armchair, starring seemingly into space. John let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Sherlock?” he asked cautiously. There was no answer from the consulting detective, except the blinking of his eyes. Somewhere in the depths of his mind Sherlock had registered John Watson’s appearance. He could hear the inane babble of his best friend somewhere in the vicinity; the kitchen. The kettle was boiling; john was making tea. With a heavy chest Sherlock sat himself up in the chair, letting his legs slip down to the floor as his head fell into his hands.

A few moments passed before John re-entered the room placing a mug of tea in front of Sherlock.

“Come on mate, you need to have something.”

“Why?” his voice was no more than a whisper.  

“You need to have your strength up.”

“Why?” there was a distinct break in Sherlock’s voice that time.

“Look, Sherlock this is madness. You’ve been in here for two weeks, this isn’t healthy.”

“Why though John?”

This time john wasn’t sure about the question he tilted his head gesturing for his friend to continue.

“Why am I doing this? All I want to do is shout and break things. I am angry and I am sad. Smoking isn’t helping, neither are these.” Sherlock showed his left forearm. It was clad in eight nicotine patches.

“Shit have you been smoking while you’ve had these on?” john instinctively lunged forward and started to remove the patches, Sherlock did nothing to stop him.

“Why do I have these feelings John?” his eyes locked with John’s and for a moment they are both silent.

“Are you in love with her?”

Sherlock drew in a long breath, trying to understand the words he had been asked.

“I don’t . . . when I was a child there was a girl her father was a professor in the boarding school I attended. That is until he was murdered, no one believed it though until she and I proved it. I had thought I was in love with her. But she left me and I didn’t feel like this.”

John had never heard that story before and it took a moment for it to sink in properly.

“I don’t really know what to tell you, Sherlock.” He paused, “only that you’re different with her and she is different with you. Do you know you were the only person who could touch Molly-” Sherlock winced at her name, “-without her pulling away. I called you a machine once, I was wrong. I didn’t see it back than but Sherlock you have the biggest heart, the strongest of feelings than anyone I have ever met. There are days when I think you’re capable of it but when you look at her I can see it. You know she feels the same about you.”

“John the truth of the matter is that no matter my feelings I cannot see her, I cannot have her.” Sherlock lent forward and plucked a cigarette from the packet and lit it, much to john’s frowns.

“It does not matter, I am married to my work.” There was a strange resolve in Sherlock’s words now. “She is better off without me. In York she can have a real life, a normal life.”

John laughed. “Do you really think she wants a normal life? She finds it as dull as you would. There were so many times when she could have walked away but she didn’t. Damn it Sherlock you can be an idiot sometimes.”

“No john, I have to leave her alone. It is not safe for her to be around me. It isn’t safe for any of you.” Sherlock stood up and wondered through to the kitchen, john followed him standing in the doorway.

“You have a wife and a daughter, John. You should take care of them now, not run around with me. I am sorry Doctor Watson but you cannot visit me anymore. Our acquaintance is terminated.”

“No are you kidding me? Sherlock”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading everyone!   
> don't worry it will get better for them eventually!   
> :-) comments please let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Molly Hooper does not like York. It has its upside of course but for Molly it just isn’t where she wants to be. There is only one place that the pathologist’s longs to live and that is London. Her London, with her beloved St Bart’s and all the friends she had. She had never been starved for friends in fact at school Molly was one of the most popular and had carried that into her collage years. But it was now she realised that there was one circle of friends that Molly coveted over the others. The little family that was Baker Street. The caring mother she had found in Mrs Hudson. The closeness of a brother in John Watson the best friend that came in the shape of his wife. Greg had become like a favourite cousin who she longed to gossip with. And then there was Sherlock, her Sherlock. There had never been a man like him and there would never be another one. Molly loved him with every part of her body and it was that thought that she held inside her mind as she lay on the cold mud.

Molly had managed to sneak out of her sister’s house in the middle of the night, but she hadn’t lived in York for nearly ten years and was no longer accustomed to its bridal paths and alleyways. She had found herself wondering through a woodland until she found the river back. Rain was falling all around her clinging her hair to her face.

It had been deliberate, she had seen the sleek figure watching the house for the last four days and knew who it was. Molly had only met Irene Adler once, awake at least yet she knew exactly who she saw behind the bush. Though every part of her body told her to run and hide from this woman her mind gave her other ideas. Molly was going to confront her and she was going to get a little revenge.

Revenge? It was something Molly had never really thought about not seriously. She had taken small bites of it with her friends or dejecting lovers but this was different. What molly wanted was to make Irene Adler feel pain.

She knew the woman was behind the moment she arrived.

“Please sit down Miss Adler.” She didn’t say it loudly, she didn’t have to. The woman placed herself down on the dirt, not caring how she muddied her designer clothing.

“How are you Miss Hooper?”

“No, you don’t get to ask any questions. You lost Irene, you hurt me and you still don’t get him.”

“Do you think it’s because he loves you? What sad lives we lead being in love with man. I’m gay you know. I don’t like men. Not unless I can make money from them or they have important information I can use.” She smirked recalling how she had taken snaps of a German politician and used them to gain a rather large estate in the capitol city. “He doesn’t love you, Sherlock Holmes doesn’t love anybody but himself. Well maybe John. Im still not convinced they are not a couple.”

“Who are you trying to convince Irene, me or yourself?”

“When did you get this much back bone?” the woman laughed.

“Maybe when you cut open my flesh to reveal it.”

“Oh is that bitterness I hear in your voice? Careful Molly you’ll show too much emotion. He’ll get bored with you and throw you out with all his other toys.” Irene moved herself on to her knees and brought her mouth close to Molly’s ear. It took all of the doctor’s strength not to flee. “You are so very pretty, even with all those pretty lines on your back. I could break you, I already started, would like me to finish?” her breath was warm on Molly’s ear only causing a slight sensation of nausea in her stomach. Irene’s tongue came out like a snake and licked up the side of Molly’s face. Molly closed her eyes tight and shook her body.

When she opened them again she was alone. She wasn’t sure how long she had kept her eyes closed but the woman had left her seemingly unharmed form this encounter. Molly resolved herself. She needed to get back to London. Honestly she didn’t care if Sherlock didn’t lover her back the way she wanted. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be loved anymore. But there was a life waiting for her there. Her friends her job that was what she wanted.

Shakily she stood up and returned to her sister’s house. Jessie rushed up to her, grabbing molly’s shoulders.

“What on earth where you thinking? How dare you leave this house?”

Molly pushed her sister away and glared at her.

“You are not my mother, you have no right to hold me here like a prisoner.”

“I promised dad that I would look after you. Now go upstairs and get washed.”

“No, you can’t tell me what to do anymore Jessie, im thirty-two years old, I have a life in London and I’m going back to it.”

“No you’re not!” 

“How are you going to stop me, Jessie? Look I love you I really do I know you only did this to keep me safe. But having my brothers and your husband drag me from my home,” she shook her head tears in her eyes. “That is just as bad as everything else that has happened to me you kidnapped me Jessie.”

Her sister’s face dropped into sadness at the words, tears dropping from her own eyes. She nodded.

“Ok. I’ll take you back but not yet, on Saturday. I’ll drive you back to London.”

“Thank you.” Molly tried to smile at her sister before she left for her bedroom.

That evening Molly found her mobile had been put left outside her door. She thanked god that her lifeline to London was back and quickly shot off texts to her friends. One to Mary, she’d tell John she was ok. Then one to Greg.

**Coming home on Saturday. Please let Mrs Hudson know. M**

She waited for a moment for a reply, it came:

**_That’s brilliant Molls, let me know what time you’ll be getting in and I’ll come over. G_ **

**No its ok you don’t have to worry. M**

**_I might be best if you have us there Molls. Maybe you should give John a ring. G_ **

Molly was baffled by the texts what was so wrong that she needed everyone there when she returned home? Maybe her flat wasn’t very nice anymore? Had her siblings trashed it, so the land lady was angry? She dialled john’s number and waited.

“Hi molly, god it’s good to hear from you.”

“Thanks John.” She quickly told him about Greg’s texts and though he hesitated at first he told her about Sherlock’s recent activities.

“And well I haven’t seen him since, but I don’t want you to worry Molly. I’m almost positive he’ll buck up when he knows you are home again. It’s all he really wants to see you.”

They chatted for a few minutes until John was forced to end the call for his crying daughter. Molly bit down on her lip staring at the screen. Then with a nod she typed another text and shot it off.

**Coming home. M**

**_This isn’t your home anymore. SH_ **

**Yes it is. M**

**_Don’t come back here molly SH_ **

**Sherlock I miss you. M**

There was no reply for a long time. Molly thought she might never get one. Her heart sank lower and lower as each hour passed her. she had wrapped herself in the quilt and blankets from her bed and laid her head on the pillow still holding onto the phone slowly letting sleep take over her.

A vibration in her hand shot her eyes open again, the light was stark on her eyes.

**_I miss you two Molly.SH_ **

**_Then another one almost instantly._ **

**_Come home to me. SH_ **

**_A third._ **

**_I’m sorry SH_ **

**_A fourth._ **

**_I am lost without you. SH_ **

Molly couldn’t help but smile, it was a strange sensation to be truly happy.

**I love you. M**

She bit down on her lip staring at her screen.

**_I will not say it like this. When you are standing in front of. When I can hold you. SH_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I got a bit excited and carried on writing tonight....so uploaded two extra chapters than I intended. hope you enjoy....don't worry fluff is coming back. more Irene Adler action   
> let me know what you think so far!


	13. Chapter 13

Irene Adler let out a smile, laying the mobile phone drop on to the sofa where she had found it. There was a stirring in the bedroom that stretched her lips again.   
The woman stripped herself of the designer clothes and replaced them with plain cotton garments she had found in the basement flat. It hadn’t taken her long to rearrange her hair and if anyone had passed they would say she was in some way related to Molly. She giggled to her reflection in the mirror.   
With a finger held between her teeth Irene stepped carefully across to the bedroom behind the kitchen. The door opened without a creek and she slid inside.   
Sherlock was lying on the bed his eyes barely open. Irene felt a bubble of pleasure inside her chest; this was the third time she had managed to drug the great detective. She slid herself onto the bed beside him and put on her best Molly voice.   
“Sherlock, its ok I’m here.”   
Sherlock’s mind whirled it was blurred at the edges. He could feel soft hands touching his arm, then his face. She sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it. She was soothing him, yes it was a woman, a woman that cared for him. He reached up his hand and touched her face, then stroked her hair.   
“It’s all right, I’m here just relax.” She kept telling him, her words drifting in and out. he let the voice sooth him, he let his mind go and succumbed to the drugs that were coursing through him.   
Sherlock was sure he was a dream through the next few days. None of it could be real. The woman who lay beside him, so close to him was not the one he had wanted to see, no she was different but still so much the same. He felt her kissing him, kissing his lips and holding his face. The touch was warm on his face it was . . . welcome and . . . nice? He couldn’t find the right words to express what was happening to him.   
The light outside his window turned to darkness and then back to light. With his mind beginning to filter out the dreams Sherlock became aware once more of the truth of the woman beside him. This wasn’t what he wanted.   
“molly.” It was barely a whisper but Irene heard it.   
“No, dear. I’m sorry she had moved on. You told her not to come back so she isn’t.”   
Sherlock’s heart sank. He had sent her a text telling her he didn’t want her how could he have done that?  
“You hurt her.” he said glaring at the woman he was holding in his arms. Irene moved her body to straddle the detective.   
“I had to dear, she had you. I couldn’t have someone else succeeding where I couldn’t now could I?”   
Sherlock’s mind clicked back into life and he grabbed the woman at her hips. He pulled her down to him and brought their lips together. The kiss was hard and Irene felt a drop of blood trickle into her mouth from the collision. She writhed on top of him running her hands over his bare chest. Sherlock’s hands were greedy and he was ripping the clothes from her body. In one movement he flipped them both over so he was looming over her. Irene couldn’t help but smile. He used her expertise in sex to touch every spot on Sherlock that would rush blood through his body. He growled at her biting down the bare flesh that he had exposed. For Irene this was one of the first times a man had the upper hand on her and she was enjoying it. He bucked her hips into him and felt the bulge in his boxers. Her hands were greedy now and she plunged her fingers below the cotton grasping his length and stroking. Sherlock let out a small groan hating to admit the sensation was pleasurable. No he wasn’t going to enjoy this, what he was doing now was for him to forget. All he wanted was to forget the face that was haunting his every thought and Irene knew it.   
“She is never coming back to you.” She whispered to him as he pressed against her. “She doesn’t want you.” She laughed. “How could she want you? A sociopath who hides behind another man.” Irene had to catch her breath at that moment, Sherlock thrust himself hard into her filling her up with his length. There was nothing in his movements that could be mistaken for affection as he pounded against her body. Irene clasped her hands around him and dug her nails in to his skin. She let out gasps of enjoyment, calling out his name as her body’s muscles clenched around him. The tightness brought Sherlock to his own end and fell panting beside her.   
“Is that what you wanted? To have all of me?” she had never heard the tone from him, it was true hatred that radiated from him.   
Irene turned herself and laid her hand on his chest.   
“Oh my dear, we haven’t even started. Have we?”   
Sherlock had to admit she was right. He felt dirty at the act he had just performed but he knew he would do it again. There would be peace in his mind when he finally quelled any feelings he had. He had decided he was going to use the body beside him to do it.   
*-*-*-*  
Saturday morning couldn’t have come quick enough for Molly. She was ready and waiting for her sister by seven o’clock grasping her phone in her hand. She quickly sent off several texts.   
Mary we are about to leave. See you soon. M  
Greg I think you were right. Please be there today. M  
I’ll be there soon Sherlock. M x  
Four texts came back to her.   
Can’t wait, let us know when you’re close. Mary.  
Of course I’ll be there. Greg.   
Molly we’ll see you Baker Street. So glad you are coming home. John.  
And then the one that fluttered her heart.   
Can’t wait to see your face. Come home to me Molly. SH  
Jessie was still reluctant to get in the car but she could see the resolve in her sister. There was a smile dancing in her lips that Jessie hadn’t seen in a long time.   
“Are you definitely sure about this Molls?” she asked not taking her eyes from the road.   
“I know you are all worried about me, but I need to be in London. Everything I am is in that city.”  
“I understand that molls I mean this guy. He’s put you through so much and you just keep letting him hurt you.”   
Molly let out a sigh.   
“I know it looks that way. You don’t know him like I do Jessie.”   
They were both silent for the rest of the drive. Molly gazed out of the window day dreaming about the reception she was about to get. Her heart fluttering at the thought of looking into Sherlock’s face.


	14. Chapter 14

John and Mary arrived at 221 Baker Street around lunch time and headed into the basement flat. They knew Mrs Hudson was on holiday visiting a friend so they didn’t bother going in to her. The pair made quick work of running a hoover around the flat and putting away the food they have picked up. They wanted everything to be perfect for when she returned. Though for the life of him John couldn’t understand why she wanted to come back.

“I wouldn’t if it was Me.” he said. Mary laughed.

“Please you couldn’t stay away from Sherlock for more than five days without going potty.” She gave him one of her winning smiles and he had to agree. She was right, he did feel the need to be on a case with the detective as much as possible.

As if on cue there was thump from the flat two flights above. John shook his head at it.

“Do you think we should let him know?” john asked his wife.

“No, Molly said she had text him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was rushing around getting his place ready for her.”

“Sherlock tidy up, you’re kidding right?” they laughed together.

After an hour of cleaning up the layer of dust that had settled around the flat. Mary’s phone chimed and she grinned at her husband.

“She’s here come on lets go and meet her at the door.” The pair darted up the stairs and threw open the front door as a car pulled up outside. Molly and her sister slipped out of their seats. Mary made to put her arms around the pathologist but thought better of it when she saw the visible flinch in her friend. She opted instead to take her hand and lead her into the house. John welcomed Jessie and showed her in. He tried to hide the distain he had for her.

Once they were in the flat and settled in the chairs with mugs of tea, john decided it was time he went and got Sherlock. He must have heard their entrance earlier.

So once Jessie had made her excuses to leave he wondered up to the upper flat. The door was shut but he could hear two voices inside. John settled himself to seeing his friend talking to a client and pushed open the door.

“What . . . Sherlock . . . are you kidding . . . what the hell?”

Irene stopped and looked round to John, a smile spread across her face. Sherlock panted beneath her on the sofa.

“John, I am rather busy at the moment, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you serious? You’re doing this now, when Molly has just . . . you know what I don’t care!”

“Molly what?”

“No Sherlock you’re a complete dick head!” john was seething with anger, his hands were curled into fists beside him. Sherlock almost threw Irene off of him and wrapped his blue dressing gown around his body.

“Molly what, john?”

John was shaking his head. “After everything that she has done you just . . . I just . . . nope.” John’s fist planted itself firmly onto Sherlock’s face sending the detective to the ground. He stretched out his jaw and stood back up.

“John you don’t understand the situati-” his sentence was cut off when his eyes met Molly’s she was stood just behind John. She darted her eyes between Sherlock and Irene. Mary was holding on to her hand.

“Molly?” Sherlock’s voice was quiet.

She said nothing but turned and walked back down to her own flat. Irene laughed her body still naked. Sherlock didn’t know what to do his mind was running wild with different outcomes of the day. Mary shook her head at him and went down to answer the doorbell that had rung. She welcomed Greg in and quickly explained what had happened.

“What Irene Adler is up stairs? Ok I’ll get rid of her she’s a fugitive anyway.” He quickly called through to Sally Donavon to bring a car for the arrest and jumped up the steps.

He looked at the scene before him, John was pacing in front of the door, whilst Sherlock stood still beside the sofa, his face bleeding from a punch. The inspector gave a silent well done to the doctor for hitting Sherlock. There was another dressing gown on one of the armchairs and he held it up to Irene who reluctantly slipped into the silk material.

She didn’t expect the inspector to grab her shoulder and spin her round. The cuffs clamped down with a small pinch.

“Ooh inspector Lestrade do you get to take these cuffs home? We could play with them if you like?”

“Irene Adler you are under arrest, for the kidnapping, drugging and attempted rape, you do not have to say anything but what you do say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He continued to read the woman her rights as he dragged her down the stairs.

Once they were alone Sherlock found his voice once more.

“Molly is here? I thought . . . she told me that . . . John I-”

“No there is no excuse for this one. After everything you just . . . no I can’t deal with this anymore Sherlock! You don’t care, I know who don’t care, you said it but I never thought that you would . . .” john’s chest rose and fell with his anger.

“I told her not to come back John. I sent her text.” Sherlock looked around for his phone, seeing it on the mantelpiece above the fire. He grabbed it and flicked onto the messages screen, his fell as he read them.

“That woman.” The detective sunk down into his armchair a tear escaping his eye. John walked over and snatched the phone from Sherlock. He read all the messages.

“Seriously? You’re going to tell me that it was Irene who sent these messages?”

“John I”

“No!”

Sherlock looked up to his friend, was he still his friend? He had hurt all of them, everyone he knew would never look at him the same way again. But john’s face was softening as he looked down.

“You’re going to turn on those water works now. Don’t pretend Sherlock. You know what you don’t deserve her, you deserve . . .” he couldn’t get out anymore words. John turned with his back straightened by years in the army and slammed the flat door behind him.

Sherlock felt his world slip away from him, and his emotions took hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heroes have to fall before they can rise up so here he is at the bottom.   
> sorry about all the angst,   
> thank you for keeping with me!


	15. Chapter 15

Sherlock had tried to see Molly go down to her flat but there was a constant stream of people in his way. Mary barely left her alone and when she wasn’t there Mrs Hudson would keep watch giving Sherlock her disapproving glance each time he got to her door. He was thinner than he had ever been and his face was dark at the eyes. The consulting detective had stopped eating, stopped sleeping and stopped consulting. It had been two months since his ‘encounter’ with the woman. She had been tried and put in jail for the rest of her life, which had made many people very happy.

Molly had returned to her job at St Barts, her wounds practically healed. Though there was a black cloud over her. Each time a new body was wheeled in she would check it over waiting for the tall presence to sweep in. he never did. Parts of Molly thanked the God she didn’t believe in that she was mostly alone. Yet there was a small part of her, no a rather large part actually that just wanted him to hold on to her.

Every time she had that thought Molly would scold herself, how could she have been so stupid to believe he wanted her? It was all guilt, he thought it was his fault she had been taken and was trying to make up for it. But John had said that he really did- no she wasn’t going to think about it, she couldn’t think about it, about him.

She sat down at the microscope he would always use and pressed her forehead into her hands. How had she let herself become so twisted into his life? As she sat there a tall shadow fell over her and for a moment she hoped it was him; but she was faced with a different Holmes.

“Doctor Hooper, how are you?” Mycroft was courteous.

“I am fine,” she replied whipping away the tear. “How are you?”

Mycroft nodded, planting his weight on the umbrella he always carried.

“In truth I am worried. About my brother and you. In all honesty Doctor Hooper I fear you both are falling apart. Your work is substandard compared to your earlier excellence and my brother. Well he is, I fear he will turn back to drugs very soon.”

“How is that my problem?” she had found a spark of strength, the strength she had once used against her sister.

“I am going to talk to him, I would very much like it if you would accompany me.”

*-*-*-*

Mycroft entered 221B alone, resting his umbrella against the sofa and stepped into the middle of the room.

“What do you want Mycroft?” Sherlock’s voice held no inflections or emotion.

“We need to talk. Look at yourself, Sherlock you have hit the bottom, and I see the bottle as well. Do you really think that is wise your addictive personality?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his brother letting the glass of scotch in his hand rest onto the table beside him. Mycroft couldn’t see his other hand but he was sure of what was in it.

“Your land lady will be very upset when she sees what you have done to the walls.”

“Oh honestly brother,” his hand came up revealing the pistol. “You are so very dull, you should leave or I may be forced to use this against you.”

“Make threats all you like Sherlock you do not scare me.”

Sherlock let out a disgruntled sigh and let first his arm fall and then the pistol drop to the ground beside the chair. Mycroft sat across from him.

“Well, are you going to talk?” there was silence, “mummy is very upset she hasn’t seen you for a long time.”

“Four months is hardly a long time, Mycroft she survived two years once before.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself brother?” there was genuine concern in his eyes and words.

Sherlock clenched his jaw, he wasn’t going to bare his soul to his brother.

“Caring is not an advantage brother.”

“I was wrong, it is inconvenient at best but caring is what makes us human. We have always cared in a fashion. You must stop this, you will kill yourself.”

Sherlock’s eyes finally rested on his brother, and Mycroft could see the pain in them.

“I can’t see her, they will not let me; she will not let Me.” his words were flowing without an end. “I did the worst thing I could have. There were other options other actions I should have done to make it right. I could have gone, I should have gone to York.”

“Yes I suppose you should have.”

“I … do you think … she doesn’t care for me anymore why should I care? I have lost John and Mrs Hudson can barely look at me. There is no thrill in life now. Why should I care what happens to me?”

“How do you know they do not care? I know you have no knowledge of human behaviour so let me explain it to you. Your friends are angry with you, when you broke Doctor Hooper’s heart you broke theirs as well. For some reason those people love you and believe that somewhere in that cold chest of yours you do feel. They will forgive you eventually, but you have to forgive yourself first.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t find the right words. he looked at his brother searching for a way of ending the conversation.

“Brother, if you admit it to yourself you can admit it to them and then to her in turn. I suspect with time all will be forgiven.”

“Admit what?”

“How you _feel!”_

“I feel . . . I thought when she left with her sister that it was for the best. All I kept doing was hurting her, even when all I wanted was for her to be happy. I don’t remember how it happened, the woman had drugged me and was talking she was telling me things. That Molly didn’t want me and I . . . I had to get her out of my mind. I thought having sex with the woman would do that. But each time I did it I felt worse.” He drew in a long breath his body shaking. “I don’t understand the feelings that are inside me, I didn’t think I could have them.”

“What is your feeling Sherlock?” Mycroft prompted.

For a brief moment Sherlock was silent he bit down on his lips.

“I love her . . . I love Molly Hooper.”

The door to the flat slowly opened and her auburn hair came in first followed by the rest of her. Sherlock thought his heart had stopped when he looked at Molly. She had been crying.

He got to his shaky feet and went across to her, dropping to his knees in front of her.

“Molly I love you.”

“I heard you.”

“Please let me back in to your life, I need you.”

The words melted her heart but Molly needed to be strong.

“It’s not as easy as that Sherlock, I can’t just forgive you.”

“I know.” Sherlock sank so he was sitting on his legs on the ground. With her knees weakening Molly slid down in front of him. She put her hand on his and brought it up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I love you, Sherlock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about leaving it here but I've got a little more planned for them yet.   
> let me know what you think and thank you for sticking with me this far!


	16. Chapter 16

Mycroft had left without either of them noticing the pair looked into each other’s eyes in a silent agreement. The detective knew what he would not get her wholly to himself for some time, there were things to be done first.

After some discussion it was decided that Molly would continue living in the basement flat. Sherlock would have to tidy his own flat, not change it but keep everything in its place. He would have to stop smoking once more and no longer drink. Sherlock was more worried about the smoking than the drinking he knew it was going to be hard, but having his Molly back would make it easier. She had also told him that he had to find a way making amends to her family. They hated him for the way he treated her over the years and he agreed it was right for them to do so. He agreed to it all and Went straight to the shower when she told him to.

When he looked into the mirror who finally saw the dishevelled state he had become. There were weeks of stubble on his face, his beard did not grow fast but it had already begun to soften. The razor was cold against his skin and racked at it. He let out a gasp when the blade broke his skin. It had been many years since he had made such a shaky attempt at shaving. Perhaps he should have sobered before trying it. The thought drew him into the shower and he stood under the warm water, one hand firm against the tile. There was a weakness in his body that Sherlock had only felt once before. Two weeks before Lestrade and Mycroft dragged him into the rehab facility. He hadn’t known Molly then, and he was glad of it. She would not have liked him if she had seen the state he had gotten into.

As he stood in the shower he forgot himself, barely remembering what he was supposed to be doing. He had fallen into his mind palace realising its broken rooms. Everything was a mess, papers littered the grounds and childhood memories danced about in shadows. This would take a long time to fix.

When he eventually came back into his living room, washed, dried and dressed in a suit Molly was no longer in there. A fear struck him then, had it been a dream? Was she still in York?

No there was two women laughing down stairs, Mrs Hudson and . . . and . . . Molly. He rushed down the stairs taking them two at a time, his throat dried when he saw her. Molly two had showered and changed. Her hair was still wet hanging down around her shoulders how he liked it. Mrs Hudson gave him a happy grin and got up to flick the kettle on. Sherlock didn’t miss a beat, he knelt down and placed his head on to Molly’s lap.

“How about I leave you two alone. I’ll just pop to the shop and get some milk.”

Neither of them heard the woman’s words.

“Sherlock, Irene said something to me.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to anything she said, it was all lies.” There was a pain in his eyes.

“She said that . . . my scars” she place a hand instinctively to her forearm and the first cut Michael had given her. “She said that you wouldn’t-”

Sherlock put his hand on her arm pulling it to his face and kissing the scare.

“Molly I am not good at this, expressing feelings. Over the years I have watched John try and fail with many women, three times he expressed his feelings towards me referring to my death and resurrection and I learnt nothing from him with how I should say it. But you,” he took a moment to collect his thoughts. “You are the most beautiful woman. I have a feeling if I had never met Greg Lestrade he would be using you too find the answers to his cases. The way you saw Michael’s pattern was sublime, I doubt I would have. I did not I failed to see what was so painfully obvious.”

“Sherlock you’re rambling.”

He bowed his head to her and tried to refocus.

“What I am trying to say is that I . . .”

“What he is trying to say and failing miserably I might add, is that he thinks you are beautiful inside and out.”

Mary laughed at the scene before her. “You’ve made up then?”

Molly gave her friend a grateful smile. But Mary’s calm quickly fell, Sherlock saw the fear in her face. He rose to his feet.

“What is it Mary?”

She took a breath, “it’s John he went to pick up Lily from my mum’s but they have come back.” There were visible tears in her eyes. “Look I know it’s a bit early to worry but Sherlock.”

“No tell me everything!”

*-*-*-*

John Watson was lying on the cold ground, there was a pain on the left side of his head and he could hear his daughter crying. He opened his eyes too quickly and had to close them again to open much slower. The blinding light was right in front of him. His heart sank as he thought ‘ _again, kidnapped again! Fucking Sherlock.’_ John forced himself onto his knees and looked around himself. He was surrounded by trees, his young daughter was standing only a few feet from him. Her pink coat was coated with a thin layer of mud.

The army doctor tried to stand up but the pain in his legs forced him back to his knees. He looked down and saw the swelling. It wasn’t broken, he could feel that much. Stretching his arms out in front of him he pulled his daughter into his arms. He soothed her as he held her tight against his body. He was going to have words with Sherlock when they got home. John was sure they were there because of him. But where were they? Just dumped in some random forest.

“wonderful.” He said out load.

Forcing himself to be stronger, John let his army training take over and got to his feet. He still held on to his young daughter as he looked around. The trees were the same in every direction but he could hear the sound of a distant road somewhere to his left. Stealing himself John began his walk towards that road. The light that blinded him had been a small oil storm lamp, he didn’t bother bringing it with him. The sky wasn’t that dark and the trees were sparse enough to let the moon light in.

Lily’s sobs had stopped quickly with her father holding on to her. Her tiny hands were clutching on to his black coat.

“A little adventure for us then Lily?” John said with the brightest smile he could muster. Lily giggled at him and rested her head down on his shoulder.

Years ago when he had first returned from Afghanistan John had never thought this would be his life. He didn’t have nightmares about the war anymore, and his psychosomatic limp was completely gone. Though the army doctor still held that suspicious flinch of everyone that passed him. Even that day he had spotted the guy in the hoody who was covering his face with a scarf. For a moment John silently cursed himself for giving anyone the benefit of doubt, especially with everything that had happened to his friends in the last year. He should have been paying more attention to the people around him.

Still he wasn’t hurt that much, the memory of how he had hurt his leg had come back. Fighting against his captures they had to get him to comply and stamping down on his leg had been the best way to do it whilst he held onto his daughter. They hadn’t hurt Lily at all and he was at least thankful for that.

As he walked a thought came to him, it was a whisper at first that crept up till it was dancing in front of him. They were a distraction. Simple really, of course the best way to lure Sherlock out was to distract him with his friends. The detective had shown his hand the day he jumped from St Bart’s roof; he was the unfeeling man that would die for his friends. Anyone wanting him to play along with their games would use his family.

Games. Of course. How hadn’t they put it together? He figured that Sherlock had to be coming up with the same conclusion back in Baker Street. If they had discovered him missing yet.

That day almost a whole year ago the face of Sherlock’s greatest enemy had filled every TV screen throughout Britain. But then nothing, it was as if it had never happened. Mycroft had ensured Sherlock that they were looking for him and he had been doing his own investigation with the use of his homeless network. They had found nothing, no traces of him. This had to be him. It’s all part of the great game as he had put it.

John was sure it somehow Moriarty wasn’t dead and he had smuggled Michael from prison, knowing that he would head straight out for Molly. Distracting the detective from what he was really doing.

John had to get to a phone as soon as possible and warn Sherlock. He knew something was coming and it was coming fast. He quickened his pace through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again everyone  
> see you in the next chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

Sherlock was rushing around his flat with several people gathered around him. He was fluttering out a barrage of words that were really too fast for rest of them to keep up. Molly was stood looking at the wall that had been papered with photographs and notes. Ignoring the detective she moved over to D.I Lestrade.

“When did Michael escape prison?”

“What? Oh um,” Greg’s face fell in realisation. “Shit do you think?” molly nodded.

“It makes sense.” Mary looked between the two of them not quite catching on to their conversation. Sherlock stopped looking at them.

“What? What have you found?”

Molly spun to look at him, dragging him over to the wall.

“Look at it, really look at it Sherlock, you’re going to deep into it all.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and ran them through all of the information before him. His face softened and his lips curled up at the edges. He gripped Molly’s shoulders and laid a kiss on her cheek. “Oh you are wonderful! How did I never see it before? Patterns Miss Hooper is your forte.” He was jumping around the room. “Oh it’s brilliant! I should have seen it sooner!”

“Sherlock.” Molly brought him back to the rest of them.

“He’s trying to distract me, right different tactics. Lestrade you and Mary continue your search for John, I am almost certain he is in no immediate danger; but you must have it in the public eye. He has to think that we are all frantic for the good doctor. I need to call my brother.” He swept out of the room and was half way down the stairs when he came charging back in. he pressed his lips against Molly’s.

“Will you be all right?” his voice was almost a whisper. Molly nodded.

“I’ll stay with Martha.”

He gave her a crooked smile and a wink before leaving again. Greg gave a little laugh once he had gone, molly turned to him.

“I don’t know how you did it, but I think you’ve nearly tamed that man.” they all laughed openly before going about their business. Molly wondered down stairs into Mrs Hudson’s flat. She explained everything to her and the two women settled themselves in the kitchen.

Sherlock had jumped into a black cab and was winging his way to the Diogenes club where he knew his brother would be. The detective would never admit it to anyone but he had been a member of the club since his twenty first birthday. A family tradition he was expected to keep.

He found his brother in the office where they were allowed to talk. He swiftly explained the situation to him before he sat down in the chair opposite.

“Well done little brother now, how do we go about finding him?”

“It isn’t really Moriarty, you realise?” Sherlock tilted his head to one side.

“All evidence leads to a different point of view brother.”

“No, I was there, he put a bullet through his own head. I stand by it, there is no way he could have faked it.”

“You would know brother. All right do tell me, you are dying to.”

“I am not sure who it is but a lackey of his obviously. His right hand man. He never did anything himself, didn’t want to get his hands dirty so he had to have someone that did it for him. And a plan set up for when he was gone.”

“We disbanded the network there was no one left.”

“We must have missed something.”

“It would appear so.”

Both brothers fell silent then, the same expression on their faces. Mycroft’s mind palace was different to Sherlock’s more clinical in looks with concrete floors and metal doors.

It took a few hours but they came to the conclusion almost simultaneously.

“Moran!” they spoke together.

“You said it, he left London when Magnusson-”

“I should have seen it, it’s brilliant. He barely attempted anything.”

“A sleeper, waiting for the opportune moment.”

Sherlock’s phone rang and he looked down at the ID, Mary.

“Mary?”

“We’ve found him, he is in Ireland.”

“Good. Lily?” Mycroft was taken aback by his brother’s concern for another person. But then this was the child of John Watson his best friend.

Mary explained that her daughter was fine and how John had come to the same conclusion about moriarty. Sherlock felt a flutter of pride inside his chest, he really had chosen the best of friends to keep around him. He hadn’t realised at first how the minds of John, Lestrade and Molly so wonderfully complemented his own. He stood up from his chair and actually held out his hand to Mycroft. With a second of hesitation Mycroft took hold and shook the hand presented to him.

“Find him, get your men on it and I’ll get mine out there too.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go see Molly. I need to tell her that . . .” he stopped his speech looking to his brother.

“I am pleased for you Sherlock.” There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice, Sherlock bowed his head before leaving jumping into another cab. Sitting with his hand rested on his fist Sherlock let his mind wonder back to his childhood. To a better time. Though his parents were angry at the time in fact they hardly spoke to each other and acknowledged their children only briefly to scold. Sherlock had been happy though because he had his brother. Mycroft was six years older than him and quickly took on the role of a father figure when theirs became absent. Sherlock recalled the days when his brother would take him into the library and read to him. There were many mathematical books in the room because that had been their mother’s profession. And then on the cold nights Mycroft had begun the lengthy task of helping Sherlock create his mind palace.

At times Sherlock could have forgotten his feud with the older Holmes. But the bitterness of advents would fall on him and once again he would steal his kind emotions for the man.

The cab stopped right outside his door, and he paid the driver with a fifty pound note. His heart caught in his throat at the sight of the door. It was open. Not that anyone else would worry about that fact but, Sherlock knew his land lady and Molly would never leave it open. Holding his breath he stepped into the house. He scanned the hallway seeing several things. There was a scuff mark on the skirting board along with a fragment of a nylon coat caught on the picture frame told him the height of a male intruder. A broken vase and three fallen frames showed the sign of a struggle. Molly’s basement flat door was open as well Mrs Hudson’s.

Sherlock checked the land lady’s first, two cups of tea were still on the table. They two women had left the room in a hurry. Going to hide perhaps? The basement flat. He darted back to the other door and took in every inch of the stairwell. Molly’s shoe was abandoned on the fifth step. A smearing of blood on the banister. Sherlock hoped it belonged to the intruder and not either of the women.

The living room showed more signs of a struggle, the television was broken on the floor and coffee table upturned. Sherlock spotted Mrs Hudson’s hand first. She was unconscious on the floor. He checked for a pulse before moving her into his arms and calling for an ambulance. When he was sure the woman was in no danger of dying he continued his deduction of the building. His Molly had been taken, how could he have left her alone? She had fought hard against the attackers. He was proud of her. He rose to his feet and started moving towards the door when he felt sharp pain in his neck, he spun round causing his mind to dizzy. The flash of two shadows holding his arms was the last thing Sherlock saw as the drug took over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok we'll be getting a bit darker again from now on.   
> thank you again for comments and all the love!   
> keep reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Sherlock’s eyes opened heavily, and he felt the familiar dull ache of a comedown. It hadn’t been a particularly strong drug but Sherlock hadn’t slept properly in over a week. With shaking limbs the detective tried to push himself off the ground but a hand held him down.

“Don’t get up Mr Holmes, I like you right where you are.”

He knew that voice, the inflections in the accent. Sherlock tried to focus on the man beside him, but his sight was still blurred.

“Molly?” he managed to cough out.

“Oh don’t worry Sherlock, she’ll be fine. Just needed her out of the way. I’ve got a friend who has a little thing for her.”

The man’s suit came into focus first, it was designer and tailored perfectly to the slight frame. It was Westwood. Sherlock’s mind spun, how could it be?

“You put a gun in your mouth!”

“Yes it was a very clever trick wasn’t it?” he laughed. “I did so enjoy watching you run all over the world trying to break it all down.” There was a slight song in his voice. “Thought you had won didn’t you? Ooh Sherlock it has been fun all the little games to keep you busy.”

“no.” again Sherlock made to get up but the hand rested on his chest.

“Maybe you need a little more of something to make you more compliant. Heroin was your drug of choice as I recall.”

Sherlock felt the sleeve of his shirt being rolled upwards by a second pair of hands. His capturer’s face came close to his so it was fully in focus. Sherlock glared at the dark eyes that met his in a manacle grin. He tensed his body feeling two emotions run through him. He wanted nothing more to leap from the floor and run away to find Molly, yet the aftermath of the previous drug had awoken his need of more again.

“Don’t fight it, Sherlock embrace it. I know you’ve been missing this. The hit of drugs as it courses through your body. Oh you are fun when you’re high.”

The tourniquet tightened around his bicep sending a jolt of anticipation in to him. Sherlock tried to breathe slowly, and not concentrate on the needle that was pricking his skin. He felt each drop of the drug as it seeped into his blood stream.  

“Now Sherlock, don’t think this is going to be easy, I’ve added a little something to the mixture. Just a little something I’ve been creating just for you.”

Panic set into him then and he tried to fight against the slurring in his mind. “Molly.”

“Yes you keep thinking about her. Maybe I’ll let you watch some footage of Sabastian having some fun with her.”

Sherlock made a sound that was close to a growl bringing his hands up in an attempt to grasp the other man’s throat. He jumped back just enough for Sherlock’s hands to miss him.

“Oh ooh, I don’t think so Sherlock. Good show though. This is going to be fun.”

Sherlock didn’t see much of anything after that. In his drugged state his mind was clouded. He remembered the feel of the cold walls as he pressed his face against them. He was smoking at some point the taste of the cigarette burned on his tongue, then on his fingers; he hadn’t noticed it burning down. Several people had come into the room and lifted him up placing him on a chair. Though he wasn’t sure what happened afterwards, but his mouth was dry when the cloud began to fade once more.

Sherlock let out forced breaths as he tried to focus his mind. The only word to slip from him was a name.

“Molly.” He repeated it more for his own sake, a place to keep his mind.

*-*-*-*

She woke up with her hands still bound to the bed, it was her second morning of being in the strange room. Molly shivered against the cold, she was fully dressed but the unneeded air condition vent was right above her and blew down. No one had come to tell why she had been taken though she was sure she knew.

With a bit of effort molly lifted her aching body upwards so she was sat up against the headboard of the bed. The mattress was soft but she wasn’t used to it.

A door that Molly couldn’t see from her position opened and tallish thin man swept in. molly knew instantly he was ex-military, his clothes were not unlike John Watson’s, basic but well-kept jeans, a simple jumper and smart coat. He smiled broadly showing his teeth when he looked at her.

“Good morning Miss Hooper. I have been waiting for this for some time now.” He slid on to the side of the bed, molly recoiled feeling her heart sink. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything untoward, not yet at least.” He stroked back the stray hair that had fallen over Molly’s eyes.

“My name is Sabastian Moran, and you are my present.”

“Your present? From who?” molly tried to keep her voice flat.

“From Jim silly. I begged so hard for him to let me have you. After all I did help him fake his own death. Funny, you did the same for old Sherlock didn’t you? We are two peas aren’t we?” he laughed, a sound that sent a shiver down molly’s spine.

“What did you do with Mrs Hudson?”

“Oh don’t worry she’ll be fine just a little sedative. She is probably being let out of hospital as we speak.”

At least there was that, Molly thought to herself. She wondered how much he would tell so she asked another question.

“Why did you want me for a present?”

He chuckled moving himself closer to her.

“Because you are just so pretty, well a little less pretty now with all those scars but still I can work with it, your face hasn’t been touched so far.”

“How is Jim-” the name was bitter on her tongue, “how did you fake his death?”

“Oh it was simple illusion really, a little smoke and mirrors. Most of it was about Sherlock seeing what he wanted to. He didn’t even bother to check if he was actually dead, but then people don’t usually survive a gunshot to the head.”

“There have been cases.” Molly replied before she realised her medical brain taking over. She bit down on her lip.

“Look, this will go much easier if you’re compliant with what I want. Don’t give me that look, I won’t be sleeping with you, not yet anyway. No I think I’ll let you sit in here for a bit, sweat it out, then maybe I’ll beat you up bit. Yeah, Jim says you’ll need to be roughed up a bit, you know so we can show it to Sherlock.”

“Sherlock?”

“Yes he’s here too. Not tied up though but I don’t think he’s any state to be going anywhere.” There was a pure amusement in Moran’s voice. He slipped off the bed, bounding over the television opposite the bed.

“Let’s have a little look shall we?” he had lifted the remote and clicked the on the button. To begin with Molly couldn’t see him, there was a woman standing in front of the detective. She was wearing hospital scrubs with a mask over her face. When the woman moved away Molly let out a gasp seeing the tourniquet wrapped around Sherlock’s arm. His face was pulled into a strange emotion that molly had never seen on him. Though she had seen it on many addicts in the past. They would pass through the hospital, swearing they were clean but they never were.

“Yes I know so long without a hit, he must be reeling in the pleasure.”

“You basterds!” Molly shouted trying to pull against her bonds. Moran smirked back at her before returning his gaze back to the tele. Moriarty was laughing next to Sherlock bent down whispering into his ear. Molly couldn’t help but cry, she tried to keep her sobs silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading once again.   
> i'm enjoying writing this so I hope you're enjoying reading it. I didn't see that coming either so lets see where it goes!  
> x


	19. Chapter 19

Jim moriarty drew back his hand and looked down at the blood that was covering it. He laughed.

“You I don’t usually like getting my hands dirty, but Sherlock the feel of your blood on my knuckles is delicious!” he knelt down in front of the consulting detective who was tied to the metal chair he sat on. He had been beaten by his adversary several times though the drugs were stopping the pain. Jim gave him a disappointed smile.

“You know I really thought you would have been better than this. But you really are just ordinary aren’t you?” He got up strolled around the room as he talked. “There was so much hope for you, after everything. Did you like my little distractions? Oh I did like watching you getting so wrapped up in little Molly. You know I might have to give her a little visit myself, can’t let Moran have all the fun can I?”

With that moriarty moved over to the television that had been mounted on the wall and clicked it on. Sherlock looked up at the screen he could see two people sitting on a bed. One was a man he hadn’t met yet but was sure had to Moran, the other was Molly, his Molly. She bound to the bed though the only discomfort she showed was towards the man talking to her. Sherlock dropped his eyes, ashamed at his own reliance on drugs.

Jim grabbed his head, yanking him up to look at the television again.

“How about I give her a few more little cuts? Miss Adler did such a pretty job connecting Michael’s work. That was a nice little game wasn’t it? Did you enjoy seeing her like all tied up for the dominatrix? Oh and all the fun that the serial killer had with her. I got it all on tape, I could play it for you if you want? Some days he would just tie her up and fuck her, over and over. Can you hear me Sherlock?”

The detective blinked his eyes sluggishly then trained them onto Jim.

“I watched it, wasn’t the best porn film I’ve ever watched but you know I think I might have fun experiencing that little pussy for myself.” He stopped and relished in Sherlock’s reaction for a moment. “I bet you would love to crawl inside her, to slam against her naked body. Everybody thinks you’re a virgin Sherlock but I knoooow better.”

Sherlock drew in a sharp breath.

“I wonder if you remember little Miss Lizzy? I found her you know she was very pretty. Told me all about you and how you fuck her in your drugged stupors. Did you really level yourself to such base emotions? How dull. MORON! You should’ve rebelled with a tattoo instead. Just so you know I ripped her apart, little Lizzy. After I used her for my own pleasure I tore her open and left her to bleed. It was so very funny.”

Moriarty straightened first his spine and then his suit, his head moving in a snake like oscillations.

“Do you want to know what I’m doing to you? It is very cleaver.”

Sherlock stayed quiet his eyes trained onto the screen.

“Oh come on Sherly, play the game. Don’t let your intellect die just because you’re high.” He waited for a moment.

“Oh I’ll tell you anyway. I’m going to drive you insane, Sherlock.” He was holding his head again. “The drug I’m having put in you is going to make you see things. Terrible things and then you’ll go mad and I’ll be able to put out into the world where you will most likely kill and maim for your next hit, but it will never be strong enough. I’m going to kill your friends too, in front of you one by one.” He sang the last three words.

Sherlock said nothing but his breathing had sped up. Even with the drugs in his system something was holding Sherlock in the room this time. He was sure it was the emotions, the sentiment he had for Molly that was holding him together. Yet he knew those same feelings will kill him.

Moriarty opened the door and let in a woman in scrubs, her face was covered as it always was.

“I haven’t come down yet.” Sherlock finally spoke.

“Oh I know but we’re upping your dose, seems you might be getting a little immune to it already. Good strong lad, lots of practice in the past. Oh can you imagine the look on poor old lestrade when he hears you’re back on the drugs? When he did so much to help you into rehab.” Moriarty laughed incessantly as the masked nurse pricked Sherlock’s arm with a needle once more.

Sherlock watched her this time, as the needle went in and the clear liquid was pushed into him. He tried his best to concentrate to check off each feeling that swept over him. It was to no avail his mouth dried out and eyes blurred at the edges. No matter how he tried to hold Sherlock lost the control of his mind slipping into the darkness of the drug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think so far! all comments are welcome!   
> thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry Molly all ready but you are going to get through it!   
> there is always something coming in this game!

It had been a week since she had been taken but the most Moran had done to Molly was hit her legs. She was sure that this wasn’t going to last. The pathologist would look up at the TV screen in her room and watch Sherlock as he writhed through his highs. In moments of clarity Sherlock would glance up and Molly was sure he could see her as well. She figured the cameras had both been placed on the perspective screens so in those moments she let herself believe they could truly see each other, as if looking through a window.

She was being treated a lot better than him, she would receive three meals a day and had even had the bonds taken from her wrists. There was a bathroom to one side of her room and they encouraged her to use it whenever she wanted.

Molly jumped as Moran entered the room.

“You know I never get tired of you doing that. Call it a little fetish of mine.”

He looked different this time, wearing a well-tailored suit, with his hair slicked back. He held out the sides of the jacket and moved himself to show Molly the full outfit.

“Do you like it? Jim got it for me. Every man looks good in a suit after all.”

Molly said nothing turning away from him to glance back at the screen. Moran marched over and shit it off.

“I don’t think you need to see him today. Don’t worry though I think he can still see you. I want to play a game today.” He grasped Molly’s arm tight.

“You should take off this little outfit.”

Molly didn’t move at first but when he produced a gun from the inside pocket of his jacket she complied. She removed her top and trousers. Dropping them on to the floor and standing in her underwear. Moran walked around her like a vulture studying it’s pray.

“Good, now the underwear, you’re not going to need them.”

Molly couldn’t help but cry as she unclasped her bra and pushed down her knickers. When she was naked he told her to lie on the bed on her back. She did as she was told letting a numb feeling fall over her. She had learnt it when Michael had her, a way of emptying her mind so she would feel nothing.

Moran moved to her running his fingers lightly between her breasts over her hip and down her thigh. Bringing the hand back up he pushed her legs apart to allow his finger access to her. His thumb circled her clit and Molly’s body reacted involuntary. She jolted and tried to squirm away.

“Tut, tut Miss Hooper I wanted to do this without tying you up but I suppose I will have to.” He put the gun to her face, pressing the cold metal into her skin, “arms up.”

Molly closed her eyes as she raised her arms. Moran slid the bonds back over her wrists and tightened them. She felt as though the blood might be cut off at any moment. Then he was kissing her running his lips across her body, nipping at the most sensitive parts his hand moved back to her clit and rubbed her, letting his fingers work into her. Molly held onto her breath, she was determined not to feel anything from his man. Moran laughed as he worked her, his hands were skilled and Molly couldn’t help it, her body betraying her with every movement of his thumb.

“That’s it Molly let go, enjoy it. I’m going to get into your head Molly. I’ll be your drug. There will be advantages to letting me do whatever I want to you. And punishments for stopping anything. Do you understand?”

She nodded. He smirked at her as he brought her over the edge her muscles clenching around his fingers. Bringing them out of her, Moran licked his index finger before putting it into Molly’s mouth and telling her to suck them.

“Good girl. I’m going to leave you tied up now. When I come back later I’m going to play with you again. If you don’t let me, if you don’t play I’ll stop your food for the day.”

Molly nodded sobbing as she lay naked on the bed. Moran flicked the TV back on before he left. Sherlock was staring at his own screen a tear running down his cheek.

Molly waited her mind staying blank, in a way she supposed this was like Sherlock’s mind palace she had made a room for herself inside her mind where no matter what happened to her body, her thoughts would still be her own. She had no idea how long he had been gone but when Moran stepped back into the room he had a very self-satisfied grin.

He took Molly’s restraints off her and dragged her from the bed, sitting himself down on it. He held her head close to his crotch and unzipped his trousers. Moran stroked himself up and down for a moment.

“Put it in your mouth and suck It.” molly shook her head as much as she could with him holding it. “Disobedience? I thought we discussed that. Suck it now.” Molly shook her head again attempting to move back away from the man.

His other hand swept across her face bringing sparks of light into her eyes.

“Do I need to tell you again?”

Molly tried to get away once more, Moran punched her and she felt the skin on her cheekbone split. A trickle of warm blood dropped down her face. He stood up, clasping Molly’s hair in his fist and pulled her head backwards. Her mouth opened with the movement and he thrust himself in to her. Molly’s resolve sent her straight to her room as she closed her lips around his member. She didn’t have to do much of the work, he was thrusting in and out of her mouth. Occasionally Molly would wind her tongue around the tip. He pushed himself in, past her gag reflex and hitting the back of her throat. He let out moans of pleasure as he brought himself closer to the edge. His free hand reached down and clamped onto her naked breast, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Molly held onto his hips to keep herself from falling backwards.

Moran let out a low growl as he came into her mouth, the last few thrusts were not as fierce as he pumped himself into her. Molly closed her mouth as he slipped out of her. She held the sperm in her mouth. Moran put himself away and zipped his trousers back up then knelt down in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her into looking at him.

“Swallow it down now Molly, be a good girl.”

She clenched her jaw, defiantly. Moran smiled that awful smile pulling the gun back to her face.

“Swallow it all.”

Closing her eyes Molly did it, she pushed the saltiness of Moran’s pleasure down her throat.

He laughed at her and then punched her again in the face. Molly collapsed onto the floor.

“You didn’t do as you were told little Molly, so a punishment for tonight, let’s see, no dinner and no Sherlock.” He rose to his full height and turned off the television taking the remote with him. Molly reached and then ran for the toilet, throwing the contents of her stomach into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok please let me know what you're thinking of this so far!   
> we're long for the end!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the game changes again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok just once again, I have no rights to these characters that all belongs to ACD Moffatt and Gatiss!   
> I only own my original character from the beginning!

Sherlock had watched as Moran had taken Molly over and over. Watching the act sobered him each time, sending his mind into anger. He would fight against his restraints that had changed from rope to heavy metal shackles. It had been three days since his last _hit_ from the masked nurse and he was beginning to feel the effects. Day three was always the hardest of a withdrawal, his body ached and his stomach cramped. But there was nothing he could do to stop it or ease the pains.

All he had was the screen in front of him showing him his Molly and how they kept breaking her. He had to fight it, had to get through the next few days then he would be able to think straight and find a way out. But what if she wasn’t in the same building? Would moriarty be sill enough to keep them together? But then again the man was insane.

Sherlock pulled on his restraints hoping for a little slack but the iron was never going to give it. He felt the frustration inside his head, he knew there was a way of getting through this but the drugs inside him were stronger than anything he’d ever had before.

As if they had known classical music came blaring across speakers Sherlock hadn’t known was there and moriarty danced into the room.

“Hello Sherlock ready for some more?”

“What are you giving me?”

“Oooh deciding to play? Well it’s a little concoction of my own. A bit of this a bit of that.”

“What exactly?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to beat it if you know what it is? Oh Sherlock don’t be boring. It’s just heroin with rohypnol and a little something I had a friend make up, you have no idea what you’re doing but you perfectly lucid. And I do love you reactions to poor old Molly.”

He nodded to the nurse who started her routine of rolling Sherlock’s sleeve and tying the tourniquet. Sherlock looked up at her and for the first time met her eyes. She stopped with the needle hovering above his bruised and marked arm. He pleaded to her with his eyes, there was pain all over his body but all Sherlock wanted was to clear his mind. The nurse took her eyes down to her work and plunged the needle into him.      Once again Sherlock felt it filling him, all the aches faded and his muscles relaxed.

Moriarty lent his face close to Sherlock’s.

“I think I might go and pay little Molly a visit. I think I have a game to play with her.”

Sherlock heard his laugh fading away from him as mind clouded over.

*-*-*-*

Molly opened her eyes and blinked away the pain of the stark light. There was a sheet over her and molly pulled it up tighter to her body. The door opened and a thin man in a grey t-shirt and stone washed jeans rushed in panting. His face widened when he looked at Molly.

“Oh my god Molly, why are you here?” she stared at him her face screwed into a ball as the man slid onto the bed.

“Oh Molly they got you too. I’m so sorry Molly I don’t know. They had me drugged, but I managed to get away. What is it Molly? Don’t you recognise me? It’s me Jim, from IT?”

“No, no you’re Moriarty?”

“Oh god, they had me do that stuff, I wasn’t myself Molly. You have to believe me. They told me if I didn’t do those things they would kill my family.”

Molly couldn’t work it out. This man in front of her was so panicked. But Moriarty was a good actor, he had fooled her once with this act.

“Please Molls you have to believe me. I didn’t want to do those things, and then they had that bloke who looked like me. They made his face look like mine and they had him do . . . oh Molly I’m sorry I lied to about being gay but you have to believe me. We need to get out of here.”

Molly didn’t want to believe him but this might be here chance to get out of this.

“Ok Jim, but I have to find my friend as well. I know he is here.”

“All right, you’ll need clothes.”

“Over there on the floor.”

Jim got off the bed and darted across the room and picked up the clothes from the floor bringing them over to molly. She didn’t bother worrying about her naked body. If this really was Jim he was gay so it didn’t matter. Of course if it was Moriarty than he had obviously seen her on the cameras. It didn’t matter to her now, she clasped the bra behind her back and slid into her knickers. Her t-shirt and trousers gave Molly a new sense of strength, she wasn’t a victim when she was dressed. As she did it _Jim_ had been darting about the room looking at all the things in there, he was playing this role perfectly. Together they poke their heads out of the room and glanced up and down the corridor.

“Where do you think he’ll be?”

“I don’t know there are so many doors, maybe we should just check them all?” Molly gave him a sad but hopeful grin. He nodded and they started their work, the first few rooms were empty, just blank walls and cold floors.

“Jim, where is everyone?”

“I don’t know Molls, when I got out of my room I thought there was going to be lots of guards and stuff but I haven’t seen a soul. I heard someone they sounded really angry so I thought I had been caught that’s when I found your room.”

“Ok.” Molly tried to make it look like she was believing him. All she could do was try and find Sherlock, they could deal with Jim afterwards. She wondered if they were showing him all of this, switching between cameras as they made their way down the corridor.

Four more doors and four more empty rooms broke off a piece of Molly’s heart each time. Until finally they came to a locked door.

“This has to be it!” Molly growled. “They would only lock if it they had something to hide!”

“Mind out of the way, I should be able to get in, I got into yours and that was locked to.” Molly stood out of the way as Jim knelt down in front of the door. He pulled the wire from his pocket and started playing with the lock. Molly bit down on her fingernails as she watched him, glancing up and down the corridor.

Then it clicked and the door cracked open. Molly burst into the room and her heart fell right through her feet. Sherlock was on a chair in the middle of the room, his head bowed. She darted over to him, Jim close behind her.

“Sherlock?” she put her hands on his face and brought his eyes up to meet hers. “Shit, we’ll have to help him walk.” She looked at his wrists then back to Jim, “can you undo these as well?” she had lost herself in the game pleading for Jim to release Sherlock. He moved round to the back of the detective.

“See if you can get him to talk, it might help.” He told Molly. She did it grasping his face once more and looking into his eyes. Sweat soaked his dark curls and they clung to his forehead.

“Sherlock? Can you hear me? Come on you need to talk to me.”

His eyes did a strange roll backwards, closed and then opened again. Something was happening inside his mind but Molly couldn’t tell what it was. She could hear the clinking of the metal that Jim was working on but took no notice of what he was doing. She couldn’t concentrate on that at the moment she had to get Sherlock lucid enough to get out. A tear was rolling down his face.

“More games.” She could barely hear his voice. “Hallucinations of the one thing I want.” He pulled his head from her hands and dropped in down again. “Why make me see her, is the television not enough that now you put Molly before me?”

“No, Sherlock!” she grabbed him again, “I’m real, I’m here. Please you have to get control.”

As she spoke she felt the coldness of metal on her arm. She looked down to see the shackle had been placed on her and Jim . . . no Moriarty was laughing.

“Oh you two are funny. How about you stay together for a while. Oh Sherlock, dear I’m going to stop your injections, a little more withdrawal for you.” He turned to Molly, “be careful Molls I’ve heard he can get violent on the second day.” With that he left the room still laughing.

Molly sunk down to her knees, how could she have been so stupid.


	22. Chapter 22

Sherlock’s head rolled out of the cloud and he looked down at the body in front of him. It was sobbing silently and the face buried in hands. He knew that body to well.

“Molly.”

Her head sprang up to meet his eyes.

“Sherlock.”

“I’m sorry.”

Molly reached up to cup his face with her hand. “It’s ok, we’ll get through it, I promise. You just have to be strong ok.”

“Molly, I’m not a nice person when im coming down.”

She laughed, she actually laughed and it touched something inside Sherlock, _his heart?_

“Sherlock not a very nice person when you’re sober.”

His lips curled into a smile. “I know.” He looked down at her feeling every emotion he had ever felt for her all at once.

“Molly, could you do something for me?”

“Depends, I’m a little tied up at the moment.” She wiggled her hand at him to show the shackle.

“Don’t make jokes Molly.”

“No, what is it? What do you need?”

Oh those words, how they took hold of his heart with a feather weight grasp that could protect him from everything.

“Kiss me.”

Molly hesitated for a minute, she wanted to, so much but what if this was just the drugs talking and not Sherlock? Pulling herself up to him so their faces were the same height she pressed her lips gently to his. The warmth of her spread across Sherlock and he wondered why it had taken him so long to allow the love he had for her out. He had never felt such a soft touch from a woman, this was a kiss of lust or passion but one that told him everything he needed to know about Molly. Her lips fitted his perfectly, her free hand had found its way to the nap of his neck and held like she ever wanted to let go. The detective brought up his own free hand and entwined his fingers into her hair releasing the gentle scent of strawberries from her shampoo. This was the only kiss he wanted, the only warmth he wanted to feel and he wanted it forever.

“So I know the basic principle of withdrawal but, what’s it like? For you I mean?”

Sherlock swallowed hard and took in a few breaths.

“Standard I suppose normally, but he has been given me a new drug, a mixture of other things. I don’t know.”

“But they didn’t eject you for three days and you looked like you were in so much pain.”

“Oh Molly even when we are in different rooms you can see everything about me. It’s like . . . like my body is ripping apart from the inside. My stomach cramps and it send shock waves through my muscles.” He was having to breathe slowly between each word.

“Sherlock we have to get out. Before you get to . . . you’re pretty lucid for being so high so I think it could work. We just have to get out of these cuffs and then this room.”

“Molly we have nothing to pick locks.”

“Don’t be so sure, I’ve spent a lot of time around you Sherlock.” She held up the wire that _Jim_ had used to get into the room. “I managed to slip it out of his pocket when he got to close.

“Oh you are wonderful Miss Hooper.” He took the wire in his shaking hand and tried to release her first. After a minute he stopped defeated.

“I can’t do it, I need both hands.” His left hand was still behind him.

“You have my hand.” Molly stated firmly. He nodded and told her how to hold her part of the wire as Sherlock worked his. The lock clicks open and the metal falls from her wrist.

“Ok you’ll have to walk me through it.” Molly moved herself to behind the detective and started working on the lock of his shackle. Sherlock spoke in a low slurred tone, the effects of the drugs were beginning to wear off. This high hadn’t lasted long, though he couldn’t be sure if he was getting used to them or it had been a lower dose.

He felt the release of his arm and stood up spinning round to face Molly and drew her into his body hugging her close. He ignored the dizziness that shook his knees.

“Ok come on let’s go.” They nodded to each other and turned just as the TV screen clicked on. Moriarty was sat with a smile on his face and blue background.

“Shall we read a story? Are you ready? Once upon a time there was a prince all hold up inside a tower. He waited for his princess to come and save him from the terrible ogre who held him captive. They find each other and reunite in sweet pleasure. But do you know what happened? It’s not a happy ending. Don’t be sad kids, not all fairy tales can end happy. The princess got trapped too, they were held inside the tower. The ogre and his men laughed and laughed as their tears came echoing down. Years would pass and no one would come for them. All their friends were dead. The ogre had killed them each and every one of them.” his smile was wider than they had ever seen it before. “But it’s ok cause they got to be together, going madder every day. Until they died.”

The screen clicked off, and Molly looked up to Sherlock. He was breathing heavily. She clasped her fingers around his.

“They’ll be ok, he would have gloated about it more if he’d hurt any of them.”

“I know. But he’s right, we won’t get out of here. Not without a plan.”

Molly nodded, she knew he was right.

But in that moment the door beside them opened and a very angry Moran stormed in and grabbed Molly. He threw her to the ground.

“YOU ARE MY TOY! HOW DARE YOU LEAVE YOUR DOLL HOUSE!” he lunged forward to hit her smacking Molly in the face with his fist then slumping on top of her. His eyes went blank before rolling back and closing. Molly looked past him to see Sherlock holding the metal chair. He dropped it beside the now unconscious Moran and rolled him off of Molly who jumped to her feet. He quickly checked the man for weapons, slipping a jack knife onto his pocket and checking to see if the gun was loaded. Satisfied she took hold of Molly’s hand once more heading towards the door.

“Wait, keys.” Molly swept back to the man and searched him before shaking a set of keys at Sherlock. He nodded and they headed out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting there keep with me guys and thanks for reading.   
> let me know what your thinking about the story. thanks


	23. Chapter 23

“We need to find a phone.” Sherlock's voice was flat though still slurred at the edges.

“What? Why?”

“We don’t know where Moriarty is but if he is here we need to be sure to capture him as soon as possible. If we leave he will leave.”

“Ok.”

They started checking the rooms, Molly would shake her head at the ones she had already been in. there was a lift at the end of the corridor.

“New plan Molly.” He got into the lift and pulled her with him. Once he had pressed the button for the ground floor he wrapped his arms around her. “I want you to know, that no matter what happens from now on, you always counted to me, and I fought against my feelings for you for so long but I don’t want to anymore. You are the smartest person I have ever met, other than myself and Jim. Molly Hooper you are the strongest, bravest woman on the face of this planet. With all you have been through . . . there is no other person who could have . . .”

“Sherlock, we’ll talk about this later, when we are both out of here and home.” She reached up onto her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. They held onto each other thankful for the embrace. Sherlock let himself fall into her, he had never felt so comfortable being so vulnerable with another person. When the lift doors opened Sherlock led Molly to the front doors. They were apparently in some kind of office building that was unused for a long time.

“We’re leaving?”

“No you’re leaving Molly, go and find a phone call through to Mycroft he’ll find you. I’ll carry on looking for one here. Then I’ll find him and we’ll end this.”

“Sherlock no, I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know but you have to. You have to be _My_ strong Molly and do this. Find out where we are and get my brother here.”

There were tears in her eyes but Molly knew she had to do it. With a last kiss to Sherlock’s lips she darted out of the glass doors and into the coldness of the morning. It was now she realised that she wasn’t wearing any shoes and the ground was damp from an earlier rain fall. Looking around her molly couldn’t believe where she was; a city, right in the heart of some city. There were people bustling around her. She rushed up to a couple who were sat on a bench.

“Excuse me, um . . . do you have a phone I could borrow?”

They looked at her dishevelled appearance, the man recoiled away from her but the girl moved forward.

“What happened to you?”

Molly’s words caught in her throat, “a lot, I need to make a call.”

The girl nodded and pulled out her mobile handing it over to molly. She pulled up the keypad and suddenly remembered she didn’t know how to call Mycroft. Pausing for a moment she raced her brain for what to do.

“Greg.” She quickly tapped in the inspector’s number and held it to her ear.

“Greg! No I’m fine but I need you to get hold of Mycroft, he needs to come get us. Sherlock is still in there with, with Moriarty, he isn’t dead.”

“Molly where are you?” Greg’s voice was panicked.

“I um oh . . .” she turned back to the girl, “where are we?”

“Glasgow.”

“Glasgow, you can use the GPS on this phone right?”

“Yeah we can, if it’s turned on. Molly wait right where you are, we’ll be there soon.”

“No I have to go back in. I have to help him. Please just get here as soon as you can.”

Molly hung up the phone and handed it back to the girl.

“Do you think you can do me a favour?” she screwed up her face. “Just stay here right here, put the GPS on and stay here some men are going arrive soon, tell them I’m in that building.” Molly pointed back to the office building. The girl nodded her head.

“Of course. Look are you sure you should be going back in there?”

Molly smiled at her. “Listen if a policeman comes by tell him there is two murderers in there and Sherlock Holmes is inside. Thank you.”

“Sherlock Holmes?”

Molly didn’t hear the repetition of the name because she was already running back to the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short one but wanted to bring it back to Molly being stronger than we think.   
>  coming up i's time for Sherlock to live up to his reputations!   
> thanks for reading!   
> x


	24. Chapter 24

The guard hadn’t seen it coming the fist that connected with his jaw. He stumbled backwards but lifted his gun. Sherlock grabbed the barrel and spun it out of the guard’s hands throwing it to the floor behind him. His hands wrapped around the guard who struggled against him. Sherlock’s arm came around his neck and pressed into him. The guard’s breath was taken from him, and slowly he stopped fighting slumping back into the detective. Sherlock let go of him feeling nothing for the man who was now unconscious.

Leaving him there Sherlock moved down the corridor. The first three floors of the building had been empty apart from several conference rooms and lavatories. The fourth floor gave Sherlock an odd sensation an atmosphere that triggered a memory. Before the drugs Sherlock had been learning martial arts one of them had installed the sense of anticipation. A foresight into actions and reactions. As he came to a corner he knew more men were waiting, a quick glance told him there were five men.

Pressing himself against the wall he made the plan.

**_First man, broad but not strong, swift jab to the kidney, raise gun butt to face._ **

**_Use momentum of second man’s approach to take out first man. Then heel kick to the second man’s spine rendering him temporarily paralyzed._ **

**_Move to third man, elbow to nose, knee to abdomen. Clutch wrist hit against wall take gun. Shoot fourth man in left knee, kill third man with bullet to the neck._ **

**_Fifth man over weight, end of shift, easily broken. Week hip. Kick hip return to fourth man shoot right shoulder. Grasp fifth man’s neck and aim gun to first man who has regained equilibrium._ **

**_Break neck of fifth man shoot first man._ **

Sherlock’s plan worked perfectly and al five men were down within thirty seconds of the beginning _._ He straightened his suit and waited for a moment listening. There was a scrambling inside the furthest room. Sherlock smirked to himself. Though he had to stop and breathe for a moment, his mind had become blurred. The drug that was thinning had now dissipated from his blood stream.

“shit.” He wasn’t one for swearing often but it seemed like the appropriate adjective for the way he was feeling.

Trying to push the headache away he stood to his full height and checked his gun. The door opened and Moriarty stepped out. He was back in his designer suit.

“Well done Sherlock. That was funny. You really do love her don’t you, little Molly?”

“She’s gone now.”

“Yes I saw sent out into the world. Oh you are clever. Not as dull as I thought. Well only a little.”

“Your story was wrong, moriarty. We are not in a tower.”

Jim smiled broadly.

“Distractions Sherlock you were always my distraction. Such a good one.”

“So you have said.” Sherlock looked at him then narrowing his eyes trying to see everything or anything he had missed.

“Oh please Sherlock don’t be boring, you’re far to addled to deduce me. Just let it happen. I’m going to kill you soon. I told you I would. I gave you a chance to open up your heart and now I’ve burnt it!”

“Molly.”

“Yes, nice and broken isn’t she. I have enjoyed watching the two of you.”

“Everything that has happened was your doing?”

“Yes, she even got her job because I made it happen. I knew she would crawl up inside you she has that little power over men. Not that she knows it. Little mousey Molly.”

“You fell for her?”

“Yes I suppose I did.” Moriarty sounded as if the words were like bile on his tongue. “She does have a certain charm, that brilliant little brain of hers. Not ordinary like all the others. So I knew you would fall for her. You are me remember.”

Jim put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a syringe waving it at Sherlock.

“You want it don’t you? Just a little hit to take the edge off. Oh you hate it but look at you, I can practically see you salivating over the thought of it.”

Sherlock drew and let out a long ragged breath trying focus on the pistol in his hand.

“Do you know what I think I’ll do, I’m going to give this to you and have a little fun with our Molly. Maybe let Sabastian kill her, he will be so angry when he wakes up. I’ll do it in front of you of course. Want to break you nice and good. Then I’m going dose you right up until your body is so full it’ll stop working.”

Sherlock smiled then.

“No. that isn’t going to happen.”

For a brief moment shock was painted over Moriarty’s face and the ringing of a gunshot died out. Looking down to his chest Jim saw the red of blood painting his white shirt. Then again the sound of a bullet being released from a barrel ripped through his ears sending his body to the ground. Molly’s hands shook as she lowered the gun in her hands. She looked up at Sherlock.

“Check if he is dead!” There was a new command in her voice. Sherlock complied crouching down in front of the suited man. His eyes were still open holding the look of shock on his face. There was still breath in his chest and he looked up to Sherlock. Moriarty’s face changed then, all the age falling off of it and the smile of a ten year old replaced it.

“That was a great game.” The last words spluttered out by an insane criminal. A part of Sherlock felt sorry for the man as he watched his eyes close and his chest stop moving. He placed his fingers to Moriarty’s neck and waited for a moment. Sherlock nodded as he stood up and walked over to Molly. He took the gun from her hands and wrapped his arms around her. Molly’s resolve deserted her in that moment, her knees buckled beneath. The detective took her weight as they slumped to the floor. He scooped her into his arms and onto his lap as he lent against the wall.

Back in the street the couple were still waiting. They jumped to their feet when several men dressed in combat clothes and carrying weapons rushed up to them. They directed them into the building when the suited man touched them with the end of his umbrella.

They team of men ran into the building as the first gunshot rang out. Mycroft was the first to round on to the scene.

“Sherlock?”

He crouched down to look into his brother’s face, seeing the pinprick pupils then glanced over to the dead body that grasped an emptied syringe in his hand.

With a groan he had the men take the pair down to the awaiting ambulances. Molly refused to go alone and would not leave Sherlock. Mycroft followed in a car behind them. his men ensured the clean-up of the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun!   
> got to love a strong Molly no mousey Molly's in this story!   
> thanks for reading! leave your comments!   
> x


	25. Chapter 25

Molly was sat on the edge of a bed with Mycroft next to her when John and Greg arrived at the Hospital. The pair were talking quietly and molly nodded to the older Holmes. After a few moments Mycroft stood, patted Molly’s shoulder and left the room to meet with John and Greg.

“What happened?”

“Well it would seem, Sherlock was able to take down the capturers and confront Moriarty. After calling you Lestrade Molly made her way back in and on finding the first guard beaten she took his weapon and rounded the floor to flank him. She shot him twice killing him. However it would appear he was able to inject a serum into Sherlock before he died. Which are now attempting to rid him. We have Sabastian Moran in custody along with the guards that were still alive.”

Both men nodded. Greg asked if he could go in and see Molly. Mycroft agreed and he went in wrapping her into his arms.

Mycroft then showed John to Sherlock’s room.

“You understand what he will be going through, they have kept him drugged for almost two weeks.”

“I’m prepared.”

The older Holmes opened the door to Sherlock’s room and let John in, he didn’t follow him but closed the door again.

Sherlock was curled in a ball on his side beneath the thin sheet. His body was shaking and covered in sweat.

“All right Sherlock?”

“John. I . . . um”

“It’s ok. I get it.” the doctor checked his friend’s vitals on the monitors before slipping into the chair beside the bed.

“We’re sorting out the house, Baker Street next door to you. It was Mary’s idea, to move in closer. We’ve got the whole house so there is plenty of room for Lily. Moving in next week. Oh and Greg is going to take the basement flat.”

“Mrs Hudson?”

“She’s ok, yeah was a little shaken but has been grateful for all of us. She can’t wait to see you again. I think she is planning a party, inviting your parents and everything.”

Sherlock nodded his head as much as he could without it hurting. Actually the sound of having everyone he loved so close to him sounded wonderful.

Sherlock wasn’t sure how long John had sat with him but when his mind became lucid again his friend was sleeping in the chair. There was a movement behind him and tiny footsteps came round to face him. He looked at Molly and she looked so sad. He felt his heart break and held his hand out to her. His limps were so weak but the aches were almost gone. Molly slid on to the bed and snuggled herself into his chest.

“How long have we been here?”

“Five days. You’ve slept through most of it.”

He thanked god for it and held her closer. The hardest part was over now and soon he would be able to return to his Baker Street. Return to his life with his Molly. He put his hand on her face to make her face him and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“When we are home, will you, Molly Hooper will you allow me to buy you a ring?”

“You don’t have to buy me anything Sherlock.”

“No, you don’t understand me, I want you to marry me Molly. I never want to lose you again.”

Molly caught her breath.

“I’ll do it properly when we are home, a ring, one knee in front of everyone, just please tell me you will say yes.”

A tear fell from her eye and Sherlock matched it with his own.

“Of course I’ll say yes.”

He kissed her again and then held her as close to his body as he could. Sherlock closed his eyes and felt his mind clearing. His memories fixing back into the right places and his world settling back into peace.

Across the room John smiled as he looked to his two friends falling asleep. As quietly as he could he got up and left the room, finding his wife and daughter in the waiting room. He kissed his wife and lifted lily into his arms.

“How are they?” Mary almost whispered her question.

“Perfect. Everything is going to be perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok there we have it, that's my story I hope you liked it!!!!   
> let me know what you thought of it and if you agreed with the ending!!!   
> thank you for sticking with me all this way!   
> x

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about being so cruel to Molly.....unfortunately its going to get worse before it gets better!  
> comments please.


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